Whatever It Takes: Book 1 Time of Choices
by Rogue11
Summary: Set in an AU at about the same time as GW. Here OZ doesn’t exist and neither does Operation Meteor as we know it. 13+6, 6x13
1. Settings

****

Disclaimer:

This story was written by a fan only for the enjoyment of other fans, without any monetary compensation. Gundam Wing and its characters are registered trademarks of Bandai Entertainment Inc. and Sotsu Agency. All rights reserved.  
  


****

Title:

**Whatever It Takes**

Book 1: Time of Choices  
  


****

Author:

Rogue 11

****

Rating:

R

****

Warnings:

Shõnen-ai, some violence

**Pairings:**
6+13, 13+6 (maybe others)

****

Notation:

_Italics_ – indicates thoughts****

Bold – indicates emphasis

****

About the Story:

Set in an AU at about the same time as GW. Here OZ doesn't exist and neither does Operation Meteor as we know it. Most other historical events, including the assassination of Heero Yuy and the Alliance's attack on the Sanc Kingdom did happen. 

**Story Background:**
The main characters of this story are Treize Khushrenada, a young Alliance General with a hidden agenda, and Zechs Merquise, formerly prince Milliardo Peacecraft. Their paths cross when Zechs gets himself into trouble after the death of his foster parents. Other characters including the GW boys will be there too, but the story will be set and develop mainly around Zechs and Treize.  
Oh yeah, while I was tinkering with the space-time continuum to create this alternate universe I also made Zechs a couple years younger, so that he is about 1 year older than the GW boys.


	2. Betrayal

**Whatever It Takes – Book I: Time of Choices  
**

Part 1 Betrayal 

It was long after midnight when Zechs Merquise knocked quietly on the window to his friend's bedroom. The longhaired, platinum blond youth had been hiding in the backyard for a couple hours waiting for everybody in the house to go to sleep. He had to knock again before there was movement inside. The curtains were moved aside and then the window opened.  
"Zechs?!" A boy with short-cropped, brown hair rubbed his eyes and stared at him surprised. "What are you doing here? You got any idea what time it is?"  
"My apologies, Otto! I wanted to be sure your parents are asleep," Zechs explained.

"Where have you been? Do you know people from social services have been in school looking for you?"  
"I know," the blond youth simply replied.

He had been hiding from then for the past six days.

__

God, has it been six days already?   
It seemed like only yesterday that he had been informed that his foster parents had been in a fatal car accident. The two officers that brought him the terrible news had also taken him to the hospital where he had, as protocol dictated, identified the bodies. After that he had never returned home. He had cleaned out his personal bank account and disappeared, knowing that with no living relatives he was going to become a ward of the state until he was 21. He had no intention of letting them put him into an Alliance controlled orphanage or youth home. He had other, more important plans.

"Come in before we wake up the whole neighborhood." The boy stepped aside to let the blond climb through the window. "I've heard the news about your parent's accident, Zechs. I'm so sorry."  
Zechs' body stiffened a little as he swallowed hard to keep a lump from forming in his throat.  
"Thank you," he answered stiffly

Otto, like everybody else, had of course no idea that the Merquise had only been his adoptive parents. But that didn't make this any less painful. After all they had been the **only** parents he had known for the past 13 years. But he couldn't afford thinking about that now; couldn't afford loosing himself in grief and self-pity, because he knew that if he did he was going to break down.

"I need a favor," Zechs told his friend. "Would you mind letting me use your computer?"  
"Not at all." The other boy gestured toward his desk where is computer was standing. "Help yourself."

The blond thanked him with a nod and slipped into the chair by the desk. He pulled a disk from the pocket of his beige colored pants and popped it into the drive.  
_Let's hope it is worth the money I paid for it.  
_

::: Begin of Flashback:::

Zechs felt uncomfortable the moment he set foot into the dimly lit bar. The smell of alcohol and cheap perfume mixed with the scent of too many bodies in a small room was almost nauseating. He pushed his way through the crowd, ignoring remarks like; "Hey sweetheart, looking for some fun tonight?" and "Look at you, little boy. Does mommy know you are not tucked in bed?"  
"I'm here to see Marcel," he told the barkeeper. The man looked him up and down before yelling over his shoulder.  
"Marc, you have a guest."

Marc Marcel, a tall, slender build man with obviously dyed platinum blond hair and long green fingernails that matched the color of his eyes, stepped out of the backroom. He gave the bartender a questioning look and the man nodded at Zechs.  
"You want to see me?"  
Zechs nodded. "We talked the other day. You said you had something for me."  
"You got the money?" Marcel inquired.  
The youth nodded again. "10,000 credits (1) as agreed upon."  
"Well let's step into my office then."   
The blond followed the man into the backroom. As soon as the door closed behind them Marcel held out his hand. Zechs handed him the credit chip. The man slid it through a card reader on the table, making sure it had the correct amount on it and was valid. Obviously satisfied with the result he turned back to the boy.  
"Where does a kid like you get this kind of money?"  
"That is really none of your concern." Zechs answered.  
"True," the man shrugged stepping toward the boy till they stood toe to toe. Zechs tensed but didn't back off. "Can I get you something to drink, a beer, glass of wine? Something to loosen you up a little?" Marcel took a strand of the boy's long hair and run it playfully through his fingers. Zechs swatted his hand away.  
"You got your money, so just give me what I came for and let me be on my way."  
The man shrugged again. He went to the back of the room, retrieved a computer disk from somewhere and tossed it to the blond.   
"What are you planning to do? Blow up some military base or kidnap a government official?"

Zechs slipped the disk into his pocket, turned and left the room without another word, breathing a sigh of relieve when he was back on the street.

::: End of Flashback:::  
  
Otto climbed back into his bed, pulling the covers around him, and stifled a yawn. For a moment he watched the taller boy, wondering what the blond was up to.

"Are you in some kind of trouble?"

"What?"

"I meanyou know my father is a lawyer." Otto said. Well, his father wasn't just a layer really. He actually owned one of the leading law firms in the country. "If there is a problem he probably can take care of it for you."

Zechs turned toward his friends, shaking his head. "No, I don't think getting your father involved is a good idea. In fact I think it would be better if nobody knows that I was here."

The other boy nodded understandingly.

"So, what are you going to do now?"  
"I'm not sure yet," Zechs lied.

Otto stifled another yawn. It was obvious that his friend was in no mood to talk. He got up and walked over to his large walk-in closet, pulled out a sleeping bag and a couple blankets and spread them out on the floor.  
"I'll go back to bed. You can stay here for the night, Zechs if you want to. Mother will wake me up at 7:00, so make sure you are gone by then."  
"Thanks. I really do appreciate it." The longhaired blond turned to give the boy a ghost of a smile. Zechs really meant it. It might seem odd that somebody as popular as him didn't have many friends. But he had always been somewhat of a loner. He had socialized with many of his classmates, but he wouldn't consider them to be friends. Especially not friends he would go to under these circumstances. Otto was the exception. The two of them had a lot on common. 

The brown-haired boy made a dismissive gesture. "Think nothing of it. Take it as some kind of repayment for all the times you let me copy your homework."

As his friend went back to sleep Zechs turned his attention back to the computer screen. The codes Marcel had given him worked. Getting into the Alliance main database was a piece of cake. But he'd never realized how large it was. Unsure where to find what he was looking for he had to browse through hundreds of documents and worked for nearly two hours before he turned of the computer. He kicked off his shoes and set the alarm on his watch before he crawled into the makeshift bed on the floor.  
_At last I'm making progress_, he thought with a satisfied smile before he fell asleep.

***

Zechs noted with satisfaction that the window to his friend's room stood open about half an inch, just like he had left it earlier that morning. Luck had it that Otto and his family had left to spend the winter break at their vacation house in Aspen. His friend had suggested that Zechs could use his room and computer at night, as long as he made sure the maid, who came daily to take care of the place, didn't see him. Otto never asked him why he needed to use his computer or what he was doing, and Zechs was grateful for that. The less his friend knew the better for both of them.

The blond slid his fingers beneath the wooden frame and pushed the window up. Luckily the room was in the back of the house so that he didn't have to worry about any neighbors seeing him. Graceful as a cat he climbed through the window never expecting that somebody was waiting for him inside.   
Suddenly the lights in the room were flicked on blinding the boy, who had been outside in the dark for a long time, momentarily. Zechs raised his arm to shield his eyes from the sudden brightness. Squinting he recognized two, no three uniformed men in the room with him. A noise behind his back told him that his way of retreat was blocked as well. Zechs dropped his arm, his shoulders slumping in defeat as he glared at the men. How did they find him? Only one person knew that he would come here. The realization made him almost sick to his stomach.

__

Otto, how could you?   
"Consider yourself under arrest," one of the soldiers told him. "It will be in your best interest of you follow us without resisting."  
Zechs' eyes moved to the man who had spoken.  
"What am I being arrested for?" he asked calmly, at the same time accessing his situation and the possibility of escape.

"Unauthorized access of restricted government files," the soldier informed him, as he approached the boy with a pair of handcuffs.  
"Put your hands together!"

Lips pressed together Zechs complied. He waited for the man to be right in front of him and then he exploded. Pushing the soldier against the chest with both hands he sent him flying into his two comrades. While the three men scrambled to get back onto their feet, the blond spun around. He jumped out of the window taking down the soldier standing outside, using the man's body to cushioning his own fall. Zechs rolled up over his shoulder and was back on his feet in an instant.   
"Stop," a voice yelled from behind as he started to run. A moment later something struck him in the back hard, hitting his nervous system like a bolt of lightning, paralyzing his muscles instantly. Electric stun gun, the boy realized as he dropped to the ground, unable to move as much as a finger. He could hear the noise of approaching footsteps, and he was pulled onto his knees roughly. Zechs stifled a cry as his arms were twisted behind his back brutally.   
"That was stupid, Kid, very stupid," somebody growled from behind him. He could feel the cold steel of the stun gun being pressed behind his left ear, another painful electricity jolt, and everything around him went black.

* * *

TBC

Author's notes:   
  
(1) - In Gundam Wing when Wufei pays for the explosives and truck he pays with what appears to be paper money. But since I'm not sure if they have some kind of universal currency or what kind of money they are using I thought credits sounds acceptable.

**What's to come:** Part 2 - Imprisonment  
Zechs is taken to a Military base where he has a meeting with a young Alliance general

Please R&R! Remember your reviews are the only compensation I receive for my efforts, so please be generous. :-)


	3. Imprisonment

**Whatever It Takes – Book I: Time of Choices** ****

Part 2 – Imprisonment  


Zechs couldn't be sure how much time had passed since they had thrown him; literally, into this hole they called a cell. The room was totally empty aside from a dim light bulb dangling high above his head from the ceiling. He had no idea where he was either. He had woken up in the back of a secure transport without windows. They must have driven for several hours because when they arrived at this military base it had been early dawn.  
Sitting with his back against the wall and his knees drawn against his chest, he could hear his stomach rumble. He was hungry, freezing and most of all angry.   
He couldn't believe that he hot gotten himself caught. In retrospective using his friend's computer to hack into the Alliance database didn't seem such a good idea anymore. But then it wasn't like he had any other access to a computer. He didn't want to believe that his friend had sold him out, but how else would they been able to trace him? He had done a good job shielding his location, or so he thought.

The youth sighed. It didn't really matter how they found him. More importantly, they **did** catch him and he knew he was in trouble. Even if they didn't find out his true identity a few years in prison was the least he had to expect. And he was sure that if they learned that the heir to the Sanc Kingdom was still alive, they would just make him quietly disappear without a trace. Yet death didn't scare him too much. Sometimes he felt like his heart and soul had already died a long time ago, along with the rest of his family, that night when they were viciously killed.

For almost 13 years Zechs had believed that he was the only one who escaped the slaughter. Only recently, 2 month before the unexpected death of his foster parents he had learned that Relena, his baby sister was alive as well. But that was all he had been told. His parents had told him that it was better if he knew as little as possible. He had understood that. But now things had changed. He wanted; no he needed to find her, if for no other reason than to see if she was all right and to let her know that he was well too. He wondered if she even remembered Sanc and her family. She was almost 15 now but somehow Zechs had trouble imagining his sister as anything else but the toddler he had known her as. His foster parents used to tell him that he had a strong resemblance to his father, maybe Relena had inherited their mother's looks.

The thought of a free Sanc Kingdom to which they would be able to return seemed far-fetched, but he had sworn that he would do whatever it took to make it a reality, if not for his own sake then for Relena. He had also sworn that he those responsible for the death of his family would pay for what they had done. The Alliance was trying hard to make it appear as if they were in complete power, but anybody who wasn't a complete fool knew resistance was growing, especially in the colonies were supposedly several rebel groups had been formed. If only he could find a way to get into Outer Space

Zechs didn't raise his head when the door to his cell slid open with a hiss. Glaring up from beneath his long bangs he recognized two soldiers in Alliance uniforms.   
"Get up!" one of them ordered. To accentuate his words he waved something in his hand that looked like a baton. But it wasn't just an ordinary baton. It was a shock-rod. Zechs had gotten a taste of it when they brought him down here and he had no desire for more. He got up on his feet. The soldiers slapped metal cuffs around his wrists and prodded him into a long corridor. The blond stopped when his senses rebelled against the sudden brightness and received a hard push in the back. "Move."  
He glared daggers at the soldier that had shoved him but started walking. They took him into a sparely furnished interrogation room. A heavy, wooden chair was bolted to the floor in the middle of the room, and a desk with a comfortable looking leather chair across from it. Zechs was forced to sit down. The guards removed his handcuffs only to tie his arms and legs to the chair with wide leather straps. Then they retreated taking position right and left of the door. After a while a tall, dark-haired officer stepped into the room. Ignoring the prisoner he walked to his desk, turned on his laptop, and started working on something. For the longest time nobody spoke a word.  
Zechs was smart enough to realize that this was all part of some kind of mind game meant to make him nervous. And the worst part was it was working. Licking his dry lips, forcing himself to take deep breaths he tried to get rid of the sickening feeling of panic and anxiety that started to spread in the pit of his stomach.

__

Get a hold of yourself Zechs. He told himself. _Don't let them see that you are afraid._

After what seemed forever the dark-haired officer pushed his computer aside and looked at the prisoner.

"I'm Lieutenant Bulloch and I'm in charge of your interrogation. Depending on your cooperation I can be either your best friend or your worst enemy." He waited a moment to let his words sink in then asked; "I want you to tell why you hacked into the Alliance database, the name of the person that gave you the access codes and who you are working for?"

"I want to speak to my layer," the blond demanded. "I won't say another word without him present."

Bulloch gave the boy an almost amused look. "We will decide when and if you need a layer. I suggest you cooperate and answer my questions now."  
Zechs didn't respond. He hadn't really had time to make up a story that was going to hold up, so saying nothing at all was probably better than stumbling over his own lies. Or so he thought.   
"Okay, let's try a simpler question. What's your name?"  
Silence. The Lieutenant sighed.

"Don't make this harder on yourself than it has to be," Bulloch told his prisoner. He waited a few moments. When he was certain he wasn't going to get an answer he just nodded. Zechs gasped in pain and tried to jerk away when one of the guards pressed his shock-rod into his side. He hadn't even heard the man approaching.   
"Now let's try again, shall we?" Bulloch suggested almost softly. "Name."  
Again Zechs didn't answer and again the guard used his rod on him. Over the next fifteen minutes that sequence repeated itself. The youth groaned and whimpered as his body jerked and writhed at each touch, but he stubbornly refused to say a single word.  
The Lieutenant got up from behind his desk and walked over to Zechs. He waited until the prisoner stopped convulsing. Gripping a handful of pale blond hair he forced the boy's head up. Zechs stared at the man, ice-blue eyes half-lidded and unfocused, still panting in pain. Blood, salty, thick, and warm, from his bitten tongue filled his mouth.   
"I don't know what kind of game you think we are playing, but I really don't have time for this, and your stubbornness is starting to get annoying." Without warning Bulloch rammed his fist into the prisoner's stomach. The blond doubled over coughing, splattering blood all over the man's white uniform pants, earning himself another blow.

Over the next few hours, at least it seemed like hours to Zechs; the officer kept changing tactics. At one minute he seemed almost sympathetic, at the next moment he would be yelling at his prisoner and beating him. More than once the blond felt himself slowly sinking into the depth of unconsciousness, but the two guards where too skilled to allow him to escape into pain-free oblivion. Every time when he about to pass out they would stop the beating, to let him recover.

Squatting down next to the interrogation chair the Lieutenant lifted the boy's chin, letting his fingers run gently over a large bruise above the right cheekbone. Zechs hissed, as even the slight touch hurt.   
"You are tired and you are hurting, aren't you?" the man asked softly. "I can make all of this stop. You tell me whom you are working for, give me just one single name, and I promise I'll get you some painkillers, a warm meal and a cot to curl up on. How does this sound?"  
It sounded enticing. Yet, even if Zechs was to believe the man and his promise, there was one major problem. Bulloch was asking the wrong question, a question the boy couldn't answer even if he wanted to. So Zechs kept quiet, stubbornly clinging on to the last bit of pride and self-respect he had left, and in the end he proofed to have more endurance than the Lieutenant did. At one point Bulloch glanced at his watch and sighed.   
"This is not getting us anywhere. I'm going to take a lunch break. You" He glared at his prisoner. "Better do some thinking. When I get back you better have something to tell me, or I'll make you regret that you were ever born." And directed at the guards he ordered: "Have him back here in 30 minutes."  
Zechs allowed himself to relax somewhat and dropped his head onto his chest.   
"30 minutes are hardly worth the effort of taking him to his cell and back," one of the guards complained. "I think I got a better idea, Lieutenant."  
"Is that so?"   
"Maybe the boy needs just a little encouragement. Giving him some tender loving care might get his brain working." The guard smirked evilly.

Bulloch looked at the soldier, then at the prisoner and back. Finally he shrugged.   
"Like I said I'll be back in half an hour. Whatever you do, Henley, I don't want to know anything about it."  
"Yes, Sir." 

The Lieutenant left and Henley grinned as he approached the interrogation chair.   
"Hey, Sleeping Beauty," The voice was dripping with sarcasm. "Time to wake up."  
The youth, who had not paid any attention to the conversation between the Lieutenant and the guard, tried to ignore the man. It worked for only a moment. His eyes flew open wide and his head jerked up with a startled gasp, as he felt a hand between his legs.   
"Stop it!" he growled, twisting his body trying to get away from that touch. The man moved his hand a little higher, laughing as Zechs shuddered and flushed bright red. The hand started to grope him.  
"Stop," he repeated sharply. "Take your hands off me."  
The guard let out another scoffing laugh.  
"What's wrong, you don't like that? How about this?" Both of his hands came up, cupping the prisoner's face holding him in place as the guard leaned over to kiss him.  
_No!_ Zechs' minds screamed. _This can't be happening_. He bit down hard on the man's lower lip. Henley jerked back with a cry of surprise and pain. He raised his hand and the youth could do little do avoid the blow in his face.  
"That little bastard bit me."   
The other guard laughed. "Suits you right, Henley."  
"Shut up and help me," his partner growled. 

Zechs trashed, as the two men forced a gag between his teeth, securing it behind his head. He was almost hyperventilating.

"Relax," Henley told him with a viscous grin. "If you are a good boy I might even consider removing that gag later on and let you put that pretty little mouth of yours to better use."

The blond felt sick to the stomach. He closed his eyes, trembling as rough hands unbuttoned his pants.

__

Oh god, no! Please don't let this happen!

* * *

TBC  
**What's to come:** Part 3  
Treize shows up at the military base for a surprise inspection

Please R&R! Remember your reviews are the only compensation I receive for my efforts, so please be generous. :-)


	4. Surprise Inspection

**Whatever It Takes – Book I: Time of Choices**

Part 3 – Surprise Inspection

General Treize Khushrenada's personal shuttle landed at the small base in Belgium shortly after noon. The young, ginger-blond man rose from his leather chair, straightening out his uniform with a few sharp tugs. He told his aid to have the shuttle ready for take-off at 1600 hours (for those not living on military time that would be 4:00 p.m.) sharp. He had a business dinner to attend later that evening, one he could not afford to be late for.

Captain Ventuno, the base commander, met Treize on the runway giving him a crisp salute.

"General," the man stammered. "I was never informed about your visit."  
"Of course you weren't, Captain," the ginger blond man answered in an almost amused tone of voice. "Because if you were this wouldn't be a surprise inspection, now would it?"  
"No, I suppose it wouldn't." Ventuno agreed, blushing slightly in embarrassment. The general could be charming and intimidating at the same time. "Where would you like to start with your inspection, your Excellency?"

"I've heard there was an arrest made last night."  
"Yes, Sir. The prisoner is being interrogated as we speak," the captain explained.  
"I see," Treize said. "Then that's where we will start. Take me to the interrogation room, Captain, if you may!"  
Ventuno nodded. "This way, your Excellency."  
A few minutes later they entered the secured area in the basement where a few holding cells and interrogation rooms were located. Ventuno opened the door to one of the interrogation rooms for the general and Treize was barely able to suppress a sharp gasp. Obviously what was going on here was anything but a questioning.   
A soldier was restraining a handcuffed and gagged prisoner on the ground. A second guard, his trousers lowered to his ankles, was kneeling over the figure. The prisoner's white shirt was unbuttoned and ripped away to reveal pale skin covered with fresh scratches and bruises. His pants too were unzipped.

"What is going on here?" the general snapped in a dangerous tone of voice, as if the situation wasn't self-explaining. Only a few minutes later and they would have walked right intoTreize didn't even want to think about it.

Captain Ventuno had visibly paled at the sight. Henley struggled to his feet, hastily rearranging his clothes and zipping himself up, while the other soldier had already jumped up and snapped to attention. Both guards stammering incoherent words in what might have been an attempt to explain their actions.  
Treize knelt down next to the prisoner, reaching out to push a few strands of silvery blond hair out of his face. Only then he realized how youngand handsome the boy was. Even a badly split lip and a dark, swollen bruise above his right cheekbone couldn't distract from his natural beauty. Treize breathed in sharply, staring at him for a moment before he lifted the boy's head, untying and removing the gag. The blond gasped for air.

The general scooped the boy up into his arms. The prisoner panicked and tried to struggle against him.  
"Relax," he whispered. "I'm not going to hurt you."  
The blond stilled. Maybe it was a result of his soothing words; maybe he had just reached the end of his strength. His head drooped and rolled against the general's chest.  
"Unlock his restrains." Treize ordered and one of the guards hurried to comply. He run a keycard through the handcuffs and removed them.   
"I want the names of these men," the General snapped in Ventuno's direction, as he walked out of the interrogation room. _And preferable their heads as well._

The Captain nodded eagerly. "Of course your Excellency." And with a look at the prisoner he continued. "We don't have a infirmary on base, but there is a military hospital nearby. I'll have them send a doctor over. Until then all I can offer is a couch in my office." 

The ginger-blond man nodded, following the captain upstairs to the office level. The boy was trembling in his arms and Treize pulled him closer against his body.

"Shh, it's over. You are safe now," he whispering soothingly, not sure if the blond was even conscious enough to understand his words.

***

Treize dismissed Ventuno, basically throwing the man out of his own office, then put the blond youth down on the couch. After telling one of the guards in the hall to bring him some ice the general took a quick inspection of the room. He discovered a water cooler, walked over to fill a glass and took it to the youth. Squatting down next to the couch he slid one arm under the blonde's neck, lifting his head up a bit and supporting him while he held the glass to his bruised lips. Zechs drank thirstily. Treize set the glass aside, pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and started gently to dab away some blood from the corner of the boy's mouth and his split lip. The prisoner groaned. Eyelids fluttered, then opened. Ice-blue eyes tried to focus on the general. There was something haunting about these eyes. They seemed unfitting for such a youthful face. As if they had seen more than somebody of his age should ever witness. When Treize reached out again to wipe away another trickle of blood the boy jerked his head away.

"Don't touch me."  
The ginger blond man nodded, rose to his feet and moved away.  
"I don't think I had a chance to introduce myself yet." He said. "I'm Treize Khushrenada." A moment later the guard returned with the ice the general had requested. Treize sent the man to the cafeteria to fetch some food, closed the door behind him and turned back to the prisoner, handing him the ice.  
"This should help somewhat. A doctor will check you out later."  
Zechs hesitated a moment before accepting the icepack. He eyed the ginger blond man for long while.

__

He is still so young and already a General. For a moment he wondered what it had taken to get to that rank so quickly. _How much blood does he have on his hands?_

Zechs wasn't sure why the general had helped him. He just knew that he didn't like it. The man was an Alliance soldier, the same as those who had killed his family. He didn't want to feel gratitude toward him or be in any way obligated to him. Pressing the icepack against a bruise on his forehead, he concentrated on the cold and numbing feeling.  
Treize looked at the youth scrutinizing, wondering for a moment what was going on in his mind. 

The boy was well build and muscular, signs that he was spending a lot of time keeping himself fit. His clothes were expensive looking, probably tailored, yet just like the boy they had seen better times. He probably had been living in them for a while, but he was definitely not a street rat. His features had something distinguished aristocratic to them. His long pale hair was mesmerizing, the way it floated around his head, his bangs partially covering his blue eyes. Those crystal blue eyes filled with so many emotions, so much hurt and anger.  
The boy was beautiful and he was in pain, something that instantly awoke Treize's instincts to protect him.  
Shaking his head to clear his mind the general stepped over to the desk. He slipped into the high-backed chair, turned on the computer and called up the prisoner's file.   
Name: N/A  
Date of Birth: N/A  
Place of Birth: N/A

And so it went on. There was little data aside from the circumstances surrounding his arrest.   
_I'm surprised we even know what he is here for_, the general thought sarcastically.

Zechs sat up, swinging his feet over the site of the couch, and re-buttoned his shirt, tucking it into the beige pants with shaking fingers. He was shivering but it wasn't as much from the cold as of exhaustion.

Watching him in the reflection of the computer screen Treize could see the boy's eyes focus on the door.   
"Don't even think about it. There are two guards right outside that door and even if you somehow manage to make it pass by them, there are at least three security gates you will have to pass through before you even leave the building." Turning his chair to face the battered prisoner he crossed his legs in a casual manner planted his elbows on the armrests, interlacing his white-gloved fingers.

"I'm afraid I didn't catch your name earlier."

"I didn't give you my name." Zechs answered.  
"Right." Treize said. "But don't you think it would be much more civilized if I could address you by your name?"  
The youth sighed tiredly. "Zechs."  
"I suppose you also have a last name, Zechs?"  
"Merquise."  
"Zechs Merquise." Treize echoed. "An interesting name. So, Zechs would you care to tell me why you were trying to hack into top secret military files?"

"I don't know anything about any military files." Zechs replied calmly. " I was only trying to burglarize that house."  
Treize raised one eyebrow. "Oh really?" he asked sarcastically. "Then you are not only a lousy liar, but a lousy burglar as well, not to mention a lousy hacker. Or have you already forgotten about this?"  
Zechs felt his heart sink all the way to his knees when he recognized the computer disk Treize was holding in his hand. He had almost forgotten that he had that disk on him when he was caught.  
"You, young friend, have been using old access codes. See" the general explained in an almost casual manner. "Access codes are being rotated periodically. The ones you have on this disk are at least 2 rotations old. Of course they still work, if for no other reason than to track and catch people like you."  
Zechs could barely stop himself from letting out a frustrated grunt. He wondered if Marcel knew that he was selling him old codes. At least it was comforting, in some way, to know that Otto wasn't the one who had sold him out.

__

God I hope he is not in any trouble because of me.

"Why don't you just tell me a little bit more about yourself?" Treize asked casually.

Zechs scowled at the man. "You are wasting your time. I don't have anything to tell you," he pressed through his teeth.  
A knock at the door interrupted them, as the guard came back with a tray of food. The ginger blond general ordered him to put at down on the desk before dismissing the man. Treize took a chair from the other side of the room and moved it to the desk, gesturing for the boy to sit down and eat.

"I assume you didn't have lunch yet."   
Zechs didn't have breakfast either, or dinner for that matter, but he wasn't going to sell himself for a plate of food. He had more dignity than that.  
Yet his stomach clenched painfully at the delicious smell and he turned his head to stare at the wall.  
"I told you, you are wasting your time," he growled.  
"I'm not trying to bribe you," Treize answered vaguely amused. "Just sit down and eat, no strings attached."  
Zechs stared at the man suspiciously, still hesitating.  
"It is not drugged either, if that's what you are concerned about," the general assured him. " Now don't be stubborn."  
The youth sighed as he finally gave in. He sat down in the chair that Treize had pulled over to the desk for him, his mouth watering at the mere sight of the meal. Picking up the fork that was lying next to the tray he forced himself to eat slowly to avoid getting sick.  
Treize slipped back into the chair he had been sitting in earlier watching Zechs. It was almost amazing what a difference a little food made. As soon as the nutrition kicked in the boy stopped shaking, some color started to show in his pale cheeks and his hands became steadier. And with that his defiance returned as well. 

"So, I suppose you are the man who hands out the sugar?"  
"I beg your pardon?" Treize asked confused.

"In the sugar and whip tactic," Zechs explained. "What happens when you realize it isn't working? Are you going to turn me over to the men with the whip again?"  
Treize gazed at him and for a moment. He had to admit that those words stung.  
"I assure you what happened to you in that interrogation room was absolutely unacceptable and those responsible will be punished."  
"And I'm supposed to believe you, because?  
"Because, even if you don't want to accept it right now, I assure you I'm not your enemy, Zechs."  
Zechs snorted_. You have no idea. Everybody who associates with the people who massacred my family is my enemy._ He diverted his eyes back to his plate and finished his meal in silence.   


***

On his way back to Luxembourg Treize had a lot of time to think about Zechs. He couldn't deny it that that boy intrigued him. Even when had looked like death warmed over, there was a fire in his blue eyes that showed a lot of spirit and bravado. The General would have loved to talk some more. For now he had to leave but he had all intentions to see the blond again. Somehow he knew it would be a challenge to gain the boy's trust, but no Khushrenada had never been shied away from a challenge.

Before he left the base he had made it clear to Ventuno that he was going to hold him personally responsible for the prisoner, and he had no doubt that Zechs was going to be treated well as long as he was under the captain's care.   
"Your Excellency, I have Lady Une on the line for you," his aid, Lieutenant Walker, ripped the general out of his thoughts.

Treize nodded his thank as he flipped open his laptop.  
"General." The woman on the vid screen tossed him a crisp salute that he casually returned.  
"Lady, it's been a while. How are things going for you?"  
"Everything works exactly as planned, your Excellency," she answered.  
"That's nice to hear. Of course I had no doubt about it. After all your capability was the reason I put you in charge of the project."

"Thank you. Not that I don't enjoy your praise or like making small-talk with you, your Excellency, but is there a reason why you risked contacting me without the usual safety measurements?" Une asked.  
"In fact there is, Lady," Treize confirmed. "Last night a young man was arrested near Brussels when he was trying to tap into the Alliance database with outdated access codes. I'm sending you his picture right now. Is he by chance one of your subordinates?"  
The woman snorted. "I assure you, your Excellency if one my men would proof to be that incompetent, I would kill him myself."  
_I'm sure you would_, Treize thought with a smile. But aloud he said. "Forgive me Lady, it was not my intention to offend you. I know that the special force team has been trained well under your command. I'm really looking forward to meet them some time soon." 

She nodded curtly and he terminated the connection.  
"Walker," the general called out for his assistant. "I want you to keep me informed about that prisoner, Zechs Merquise."

"Yes, Sir."

* * *

TBC

Author's notes:   
**  
What's to come:** Part 4  
Treize pulls some strings to get Zechs out of jail

Please R&R! Remember your reviews are the only compensation I receive for my efforts, so please be generous. :-)


	5. Velvet Prison

**Whatever It Takes – Book I: Time of Choices**

Part 4 – Velvet Prison

Treize had found it hard to keep his mind off Zechs Merquise since the day he had met the blond youth at the military base in Belgium. Sitting through yet another boring meeting the general was checking out the newest information about on the boy that Lieutenant Walker had send him.  
The picture he was looking at now was much better than those that had been taken of Zechs after his arrest. Treize studied the boy's face thoroughly; long silvery strands of blond hair framing a perfectly shaped face, crystal blue eyes partially hidden behind long bangs, a high set nose and delicately shaped, thin lips. The boy was simply stunning. An aura of nobility and pride surrounded him. Treize had no doubt that Zechs was turning heads wherever he went.

The general had learned that the boy's parents had been killed in a car accident little more than a week before his arrest.   
Zechs had grown up on an estate just outside of Brussels and had visited one of the most expensive schools in the country, neither of which surprised Treize very much. There had never been a question in his mind that the youth had been brought up in high society. His father, a physician, owned a small private practice. Probably to continue some kind of family tradition, Treize assumed. He couldn't be sure though, because little was known about the Merquise' family history beyond the point when they settled down in Brussels. That alone struck Treize as strange enough to have his aid investigate it thoroughly. Maybe Walker would find something that could provide an explanation for Zechs' actions. 

The general didn't agree with the military's theory that the boy was working for some kind of underground rebel group. But there was something about him, and Treize was determined to find out what it was.  
"General?!"  
Realizing that he had been spoken to Treize jerked up his head and closed his computer screen at the same time, feeling a little like a schoolboy who had been caught by his teacher when he wasn't paying attention.  
"Something wrong, General Khushrenada?" Admiral Noventa asked.  
"Forgive me, Admiral," the ginger blond man apologized. "I'm afraid my mind just wandered off."  


***

The two guards that took Zechs out of his cell were close-lipped about where they were taking him. His guess was that they had finally realized that he wouldn't or couldn't tell them any more than he already had. He assumed that they would move him to a real prison, where they would throw him into just another cell and toss away the key. To say he was scared would have been an understatement. He was terrified. His interrogation officer had found perverted pleasure in describing to him what his future was going to be like if he wasn't going to cooperate.

To Zechs' surprise it wasn't a military transport waiting for him at the runway, but a small private shuttle.  
The guards prodded him aboard where a young Alliance officer was waiting.  
"The prisoner, Lieutenant Walker."  
Walker returned the salute then said:

"Thank you, that will be all. Leave the key for his cuffs."

One of the guards handed the officer the card, turned on his heel and left. The boy wasn't sure if he should be surprised or insulted by the fact they didn't deem it necessary to give him more than a one-man escort. But then it wasn't like he would be going anywhere, not with that electronic bracelet they had slapped in him earlier that morning. It was a thin, silvery, inconspicuous looking circlet, yet it allowed them not only to trace every step he made via satellite, but they also were able to set the perimeters in which he was allowed to move. If he was trying to break through those boundaries the bracelet was designed to send an electric shock into his nerve center strong enough to render the wearer unconscious. The same would happen at the smallest attempt to temper with or remove the device.  
"Sit down and strap yourself in." the officer ordered in Zechs' direction." We will take off soon."

"Where are we going?" the blond asked as he fastened the seatbelt.  
"Luxembourg," the man answered in a tone that made it clear that he wasn't willing to give any additional information about their destination.  
"Do all prisoners travel to jail in such style?" Zechs remarked sarcastically. "Or is this only reserved for personal friends' of General Khushrenada?"  
"I'm not taking you to prison," Walker answered.  
_But I was right about the fact that this is Khushrenada's shuttle, wasn't I?_ The blond grinned inwardly.   
It was a short flight. Zechs spend most of the trip staring out of the window. The craft touched down on a small private landing strip. A black luxury car was waiting for them.   
_A Mercedes-Benz Guard S500!_ The youth couldn't help but let out a gasp at the sight. That vehicle was a real classic. The last of them were made long BC (1). _Otto, I wish you could see this._

Zechs wished that he could take a look under the hood to see if the engine had been rebuilt. Back in those days cars drove on something called gasoline. Zechs and his friend had been fixing up a classic Viper and the biggest problem they encountered had been switching it from gasoline to power cell without loosing too much of the way it originally performed. But then, somebody who had the kind of money to buy a car like this might also have the means on get his hands on real gasoline. 

Zechs slapped himself mentally. _Get a hold of yourself. You should be worried about what will happen to you, instead of standing here and drool over a car._

It was only a few minutes drive from the landing strip to the entrée gate of a large estate. 

Every part of the property, from the beautifully manicured garden to the exquisitely decorated, Victorian style villa, indicated that the owner was a person with a great amount of taste and an even greater amount of money. The car stopped in front of a wide marble stairway leading to the main entrance of the manor. A servant dressed in black trousers and a white jacket met them at the door. The man greeted them with a polite bow as they stepped into the house.  
"Lieutenant Walker, the general was called away for a meeting rather unexpectedly. His Excellency asked me to take care of his guest while he is gone." If the butler was surprised that his Excellency's "guest" was wearing handcuffs he didn't show any indication of it.  
Walker nodded. Pulling the cardkey out of his pocket he gave his prisoner a suspicious look.   
"They told you what that thing on your wrist does?"  
Zechs nodded. They hadn't just told him. "I was given a **demonstration,**" he answered grimly.  
"Then I suppose you know better than to try anything stupid." Walker ran the card through the handcuffs, unlocking them and turned toward the butler. "He is all yours, Max."  
The man gave a curt nod as the Lieutenant departed then turned toward the youth.  
"Let me show you to the room his Excellency had prepared for you."

***

The room was not very big, but still big enough not to appear cluttered. It was furnished in a very efficient yet stylish way. A wide, very comfortable looking, bed was standing against the wall to his right, a small lamp on each of the two bedside tables. On the opposite side of the room stood a small table flanked by two armchairs. A medium sized dresser and a small bookshelf completed the furnishing. The pieces were antiques made from real wood, Zechs recognized, not just imitations made to look like antiques. The place awakened painful memories of his home in him.  
Swallowing hard, the youth pushed away the thoughts before they could overwhelm him. He had not allowed himself to dwell upon them for the past four weeks and he wasn't going to start now.  
Max, the butler, walked over to the large window opening the blinds to let the afternoon sun pour in.

"Why am I here?" Zechs asked the man, somewhat concerned about the fact that the general was showing so much interest in him.

" I'm afraid his Excellency chose not to tell me his reasons for bringing you here. But he should be home soon and I'm sure he will be answering all your questions when he gets here." Giving the blond youth a quick gaze the man continued. " I suppose we should get you out of these clothes before he arrives."  
Zechs eyes widened. "I beg your pardon?"  
"Forgive me, but" The butler paused for a moment as he tried to put it as polite as possible. " I thought that you might like to take the opportunity to change and clean up while you are waiting. Would you like me to draw you a bath, Sir?"  
Zechs, taking the hint, could feel his cheeks burn as he flushed in embarrassment. "I think I would prefer a shower, if I could." he answered with as much dignity as he could master.  
The grey-haired man nodded.

"Of course. Your bathroom is right over there." He walked over to open a door to the left of them. "Please make yourself a home. You should find everything you need. If you excuse me, I shall be back with a change of clothes shortly."  
The man left and Zechs stepped into the small but elegant bathroom. A soft, white rug covered the black marble flooring. The oval shaped bathtub/shower combination filled almost a third of the room. A chrome sink was build into a cabinet made of white cherry wood. Showerheads, towel holders and fixtures were made of chrome as well.   
He turned on the shower, slipped out of his clothes and stepped under the jet. For the longest time he Zechs just stood there, eyes closed, just enjoying the feeling of the hot water running over his skin. Finally opening his eyes and looking around he found several bottles of shampoo and soap on a shelf in the corner. He began to cleanse himself, leathering his long hair several times before he was satisfied. He felt himself relax, as if the water was washing away his worries along with the filth on his body.  
When he finally stepped out of the bathroom, a fluffy, white towel wrapped around his waist, he found that the butler had not only left a pile of garments on the bed for him but also a plate with sandwiches and a glass of juice.   
Zechs dropped his towel and started to dress. The legs of the dark gray cotton pants were too long, the fabric pooling around his ankles. But at least they didn't fall off his hips. The white shirt hung loosely on him. He rolled up the sleeves half way to his forearms.   
For a moment the youth stared hesitantly at the sandwiches, feeling that he already had accepted more than he should have from the man he considered an enemy. But he figured that one couldn't live on pride alone and that it was foolish to turn down a good meal. So he sat down in one of the armchairs and ate.  
When he was finished Zechs had to admit that he felt better than he had in a while and his spirits had risen considerably. He flopped onto the bed, relishing its softness and comfort. But then again, after a few weeks of sleeping on the ground, with nothing but a military issued blanket between his body and the cold concrete, even a wooden park bench would feel comfortable. 

***

Max opened the car door for the general to exit and Treize gave the man a curt nod.  
"Welcome home, Sir. How was the meeting?" the butler asked politely.  
Treize sighed. "Believe me, you really don't want to know."  
"I suppose I don't," the butler agreed with a hint of a smile.   
"Is he here?" the ginger blond man inquired eagerly as they walked toward the mansion.  
"Yes, your Excellency. He is waiting in his room. Do you want me to inform him of your arrival?"  
Treize shook his head. "Thanks, but that won't be necessary. I'll go up myself."   
He handed his cape and sword-belt to the servant before he went upstairs. He knocked then opened the door to the room he had assigned for his blond "houseguest", not expecting to find the boy asleep. Zechs was laying on the bed, dressed in a pair of pants and a shirt that Treize recognized as his own, his head buried into one of the soft pillows. The boy seemed peacefully relaxed, his long, silvery-blond hair pooled around his head, covering part of his face and spilling onto the pristine white sheets. The general stepped closer, fighting the urge to reach out and touch the boy's lovely face. Letting his eyes roam over the sleeping figure, the well-built body, long, slender legs and perfectly shaped feet, Treize tried to imagine what the boy might look like in the nude. As if reading his mind, Zechs stirred in his sleep and turned over onto his stomach. The movement pushed up his shirt, revealing a few inches of soft, cream colored skin and the beginning curves of two firm buttocks. What a positively delightful sight! Treize bit down hard on his bottom lip as he felt a prickling heat spreading in his groin. 

Suddenly, as if realizing that he was being watched the blond bolted upright, all signs of sleepiness gone from his startled eyes, as he stared up at the ginger-blond man who stood only a few feet away, gazing at him with intense eyes. He gasped and jerked back as far away from the general as he could get.  
"What the hell are you doing here?" he growled in a mixture of shock and anger. 

* * *

TBC

Author's notes:   
(1) BC = Before Colony in this case  
  
**What's to come:** Part 5 - Power Struggles  
Zechs challenges Treize's authority

Please R&R! Remember your reviews are the only compensation I receive for my efforts, so please be generous. :-)


	6. Power Struggles

**Whatever It Takes – Book I: Time of Choices**

Part 5 – Power Struggles

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Zechs swung his legs over the side of the bed. In a gesture that could indicate nervousnessor noting at all, he ran his hand through his long hair. There was the same mixture of mistrust, pain, defiance and pride in the boy's eyes that Treize had noticed at their first meeting. The general sighed inwardly. It wasn't going to be easy to convince the youth to trust him. And he was afraid his little "surprise appearance" wasn't going to help either.  
He put on a polite smile and gave the boy a courteous nod. "It's nice to see you again, Zechs Merquise. And forgive me if I startled you"  
The youth didn't return the greeting but simply asked:  
"Why am I here?"  
"I thought you might prefer this place to a prison." The general replied calmly, as he sat down in one of the armchairs. "Because trust me, compared to being locked up and working in the titanium mines the time you spent at the military base was a luxury vacation."  
"It still doesn't exactly answer my question," the blond replied. "What's your motive?"  
"Does there have to be one?" Treize asked softly.

The boy's brows furrowed. "You are telling me you are doing this out of the goodness of your heart?"   
"Would that be so difficult to believe? I told you already once, I'm not your enemy, Zechs."  
Zechs' retort was cut short by a knock at the door. 

"Come in," the general called out.

The door opened to reveal Treize's personal servant.  
"Forgive me for interrupting, your Excellency, but Lieutenant Walker called. He wanted you to know that he sent you those files you requested."

"Thank you, Max!" the ginger-blond man replied.   
As the butler bowed and retreated Treize rose from his chair, turning to leave as well.  
"Wait a second, we are not finished here. I still have a few more questions." Zechs called out after him, making the general stop and turn to face him momentarily.

"We will have ample time to discuss everything after dinner." Treize's words were polite, but the tone he delivered them in allowed no arguments and Zechs realized that although his prison had been upgraded, his status had not changed.

He ground his teeth and glared after the general.

***

It wasn't long after that Max appeared to show the blond youth to a tastefully decorated and furnished dining room. Treize had changed his uniform for a pair of tan colored pants and a shirt only a few shades darker. It was the first time that Zechs saw the general in civil attire. Out of uniform he looked a lot different and the boy realized that he was even younger than he had thought initially. 

Dinner was a rather quiet affair. Neither Zechs nor the general talked much. At one point when the boy looked up he found Treize's intense blue eyes trained on him and quickly diverted his gaze back onto his plate. After the main course, while the butler started to clear the table, the general asked him if he would care for dessert. Zechs declined. It bothered the blond immensely that Treize was treating him like he was a guest in his house, not a prisoner. The man's friendly and polite attitude toward him troubled the boy. It didn't fit into the picture he had of an Alliance officer. He didn't want to think of Alliance soldiers as kind and caring. He wanted to think of them as viscous and brutal, like the men behind the guns that had killed his family, because that made it so much easier to hate them.  
After the meal the general took Zechs on a short tour through the estate.

"Although this is not a prison, there will be certain rules you will have to live by." Treize explained as they entered a large rose garden behind the villa. "As long as you obey these rules you will have a fair amount of freedom. If you choose to ignore them however you will loose your privileges rather fast. You are free to make use of the garden and most of the house except for my office and my private quarters. Breakfast will be served at 7:30, lunch at noon and we usually have supper at 7:00. I don't think that I have to remind you that you're unable to leave the estate without either me or Lieutenant Walker?"  
"No, Sir." Zechs answered flatly.   
"What do you know about roses?" the ginger-blond man suddenly asked.  
The boy blinked at the rather unexpected question then shrugged.

"Not much. I have never been very interested in flowers."  
"That's fine. My gardener is an expert in them. He will teach you everything you need to know." Treize told him and then at the boy's questioning look continued: "You are not here on vacation. You **will be** working. And this is where you will be working primarily."  
_He's got to be kidding._ Zechs thought. _No, I think he is serious._  
"Teach me? They are flowers. You water them, you feed them, and they grow. What else can there be?"  
"I can tell, you really don't know the first thing about roses." The ginger-blond man had picked up a pair of garden shears. He squatted down next to a bush of dark red, velvety looking roses, cutting a single long stemmed flower.   
"Roses are probably the most mystifying flowers, so full of beauty and grace. Delicate but at the same time dangerous." Treize closed his eyes momentarily as he raised the blossom to his nose, taking in the sweet fragrance. "A reminder that things are not always what they appear to be."  
For a moment Zechs wondered if the man was only talking about roses.   
As they continued on with their tour they entered a hangar size garage. Zechs' eyes grew as large as dinner plates at the sight of two dozen or so classics all looking like they had come of the assemble line only yesterday. The reaction didn't escape Treize, and he took mentally note of it. It seemed that Zechs and he had at least one common interest. Maybe that was something he could use for his advantage in the future.  


***

  
Later that night, back in his room, Zechs was laying sleepless for a long time. As he assessed his situation he couldn't help but think that things could have been a whole lot worst. He still wasn't sure what Treize's true intentions were and he was sure that living in the same house as the general would take some getting used to. But then he had to deal with worse blows than this in his life.   


***

A knock noise woke Zechs, but it took a few moments and another knock at the door before he recognized his surroundings and remembered that he wasn't in his cell at the military base anymore.

"Sir, are you awake?" Max's voice reached him. "It's time to get up."  
Popping open one eye the blond smirked silently, watching as the butler tried to enter, and congratulated himself for being bright enough to prop a chair under the doorknob before he went to bed.

Sure he was very well aware that the butler was acting on the general's orders, still he decided to "hit the snooze button." Still smirking, he pulled the covers over his head and closed his eyes again. It was nothing more but a little display of defiance. Not enough that Treize would actually consider sending him to prison, but just enough to show that he wasn't going to jump through hoops for anybody.

Treize turned to take another look at the wall-clock in the hall. It was a shortly after 8 am. He had already finished his breakfast but there was still no sign of Zechs.  
"You woke him, didn't you?" Treize asked the butler who had begun to clear the empty dishes.  
"I tried, twice." Max confirmed. "I can't be sure if he heard me though, as he chose not to respond. And he somehow barricaded his door."  
"He did what?" The general gave the grey-haired man a surprised look.  
"He blocked the door with something, your Excellency."  
Treize almost chuckled.  
_So he is testing me to see how far he can push me_, he thought vaguely amused. _I suppose that was to expect_. _Lets see how long it takes him to realize that I'm in a little bit of an advantage here_.

Finishing the last of his coffee, the general turned to the butler.

"You can clear up the table, all of it."  
The man nodded in acknowledgement. "As you wish, your Excellency."  
Treize left the dining room, considering if he should go upstairs and get Zechs himself, when the boy came walking down the stairs.  
"Ah, Zechs. Just in time. The gardener has been instructed to show your duties, he is waiting for you."   
"Don't I get to eat breakfast first?" the blond asked.  
"Breakfast?" the general echoed in feign surprise. "This is not a restaurant were you eat when it pleases you. I do remember telling you breakfast is being served at 7:30. The fact that you chose not to appear at that time let me to believe that you were not hungry. Maybe next time you will be a little morepunctual. Or to make this a little clearer Get your butt into the garden now."  
Zechs glared at Treize, two pairs of blue eyes locked. For a moment it looked like the boy was going to make kind of retort, but in the end he just scowled at the general, turned and left the house without another word. The general left shortly thereafter through the front entrance where his ride was waiting. 

Max sighed as he watched as both Treize and Zechs walk off. Somehow the old man knew that there were many more power struggles of this kind to come. Treize was a man used to giving orders and expecting them to be carried out on the dot. But Zechs didn't strike him like a person who was accustomed to taking orders from anybody.

***

More often then not Treize spend all day or even several days in a row away from his estate in Luxembourg. But even if he was home, he was usually working in his office and most of the time he and Zechs met only at the table. Generally they would talk about nonsensical things like books or cars, but if Treize thought that he could get the boy to open up to him he couldn't have been more wrong. Zechs barely spoke about his past and usually clamped up like an oyster as soon as the general asked him any questions about his family. But of course that didn't keep Treize from trying. Especially not after Walker managed to dig up some rather interesting information.

"Tell me a little more about yourself." The general requested. "I've heard you were born in the Sanc Kingdom."

Zechs nodded. There was no use in denying anything that the general already knew. "My family managed to leave the country shortly after the... invasion by the Alliance."  
The boy gave Treize a challenging look, almost expecting the man to give him the same kind of lecture he used to receive from his history teacher when he use the word **invasion** to describe the Alliance attack on Sanc. He had always considered it as a farce that the textbooks referred to it as an act of liberation. How do you liberate a free country?  
But the ginger-blond man didn't say anything. He had raised his wineglass, starring into the deep red liquid, lost in thought.  
"Your father was the personal physician to the Peacecraft family, wasn't he?" he stated suddenly. "Just like his father and his father's father before him."  
Zechs blinked. _How does he know that?_  
"I really don't know." He lied. "I was rather young and we never spoke much about that time."  
"I'm just surprised with your family history that you didn't seem to have plans to go to medical school."   
"Why?" Zechs asked pertly. "Is there some kind of law that one has to continue the family tradition?"  
_You are still hiding something, aren't you?_ _I suppose I'll have to have Walker dig just a little deeper. _Treize thought, but aloud he said:  
"Do you always become defensively that easily, or is it just I who brings out the best in you?"

* * *

TBC

Author's notes:   
  
**What's to come:** Part 6 - Confrontations  
Zechs makes plans to escape and Treize is anything but happy about it

Please R&R! Remember your reviews are the only compensation I receive for my efforts, so please be generous. :-)


	7. Confrontation

**Whatever It Takes – Book I: Time of Choices**

Part 6 – Confrontations

Zechs had finished his tasks early and headed, as he usually did, to the garage to see if he could help Antòn, the mechanic. He didn't mind the extra work if it meant that he could play around with the cars. And Antòn didn't seem to mind having him around. The man was quite a character and it was rather amusing how he could switch his thick Italian accent on and off at will. In fact he wasn't even Italian, as he confessed to Zechs, but according to him ladies just went nuts for men with sexy accents.

Antòn who was polishing one of Treize's sedans, looked up when Zechs entered the building.  
"Zechs, just the person I was hoping to see," the man greeted him with a wide smile. "Help me finish this car, will you."  
"What's in it for me?" The boy threw his long hair over his shoulder. He had started wearing it in a pony tail during the day so it wouldn't get in the way.  
"Let's see" The mechanic pretended to think about it for a while, then, with a humorous twinkle in hie eyes he announced: "I won't make you sweep the garage afterward."  
"Fair enough!" Zechs laughed as he picked up a cloth. "What's the hurry anyway?"  
"I still have to make a run to town pick up some parts that have come in and I can't be late for my dinner date, can I?"  
"Another new lady in your life?" the boy asked.  
"No, I'm still seeing Carrie."  
The youth feigned surprise, as he buffed down the driver's side doors. "You have been together with her for more than 2 weeks now. Is she that hot or is it just that you have not found anything better yet?"  
"Aren't you a little too young to talk like that?" Antòn swatted at the blond with the cloth he was using to buff the car. 

Zechs smirked. "Tell you what," he offered. "Why don't you let me finish up here and you go do whatever it is you have to do in town."  
Hesitating for a moment, Antòn looked at him then at his watch. "Are you sure?"

The blond nodded.   
"Thanks, Zechs." The man slapped him on the shoulder.  
The boy watched as the mechanic drove off then picked up where he had left off. By the time he had completed his work on the sedan he was sure Antòn wasn't coming back unexpectedly. 

Zechs just couldn't believe his luck. He had been waiting for an opportunity like this since nearly two month. If he ever wanted to escape this place, which he had planned on doing from the day he arrived, he needed to get rid of his electronic bracelet first. But for that he needed tools. A simple screwdriver or a pair of pliers wasn't going to do the trick. He needed something a little more sophisticated. The only place to find instruments like that would be here in the garage. Which was probably the reason he wasn't supposed to be in here alone.   
It didn't take Zechs long to find was he thought he would need. He had helped often enough to clean up the garage over the past weeks to know where everything was located. Antòn had this place well organized and Zechs had no doubt that he would discover the disappearance of his tools soon. But Zechs considered it another stroke of luck that Antòn was going out tonight. So he was probably "closing shop" right after he got back from town. Which meant he had only this one night to put his escape plan to work. 

Still he couldn't help but feel bad for betraying his friends trust in him and he hoped that the mechanic wasn't going to get in too much trouble because of him. 

***

When Antòn returned he noticed with satisfaction that the black sedan looked spotless, and he made a mental note to thank Zechs later on. But that was before he decided to finish up a couple minor repairs and give himself a head start in the morning. The boy was correct, Antòn was a very organized person who could find his way around the garage with his eyes closed if he had to. It didn't take him more than a few moments to realize that something was amiss.

"Zechs, you damn fool." he growled, as he walked out of the garage. His first reaction was find the blond and if he had to slap some sense into him. But just then Treize's Mercedes pulled up in front of the villa. After a short moment of hesitation Antòn decided that he had to inform the general. As much as he liked the blond, he also liked his job and he was probably already in a heap of trouble as it was.

"Your Excellency?!"  
Treize, stopped and turned as he heard the voice of his mechanic behind him.  
"What is it, Antòn?"

"I'm sorry to bother you, but this is about Zechs."   
The general gave a tired sigh his eyes closing momentarily.

__

How many times have I heard these 4 words over the last 2 month? _And I'm really getting tired of it._  
"What did he do?"   
"I'm not positive but I think he took some tools from the garage."  
One of Treize's eyebrows jumped up in surprise. "How could that happen? I thought I made it clear that he wasn't allowed to be in the garage without supervision."  
The man cringed and gave the general an uneasy look.  
"I suppose it was my fault. I had to pick up some parts in town and he volunteered to finish cleaning the car we were working on while I was gone. When I got back he had already left. I didn't notice until about 10 minutes ago that a few instruments were gone."  
"He volunteered? That alone should have set off a dozen alarm bells in your head," Treize criticized.  
"I suppose you are right, Your Excellency." Antòn agreed subdued. "But maybe I'm wrong about this and he didn't take them."  
"Why, do you believe we are dealing with some kind of tool goblin here?" The general gave the man a stern look before he turned and walked off. "We will talk about your disobeying of my orders later on."

"Yes, Sir."  
Oh, there was no doubt is Treize's mind that Zechs had taken those tools. The question was what was he trying to do. _Dear Lord, I hope he wasn't foolish enough to try to tamper with his surveillance bracelet._   
His stride quickened as he walked to his office to check the control unit that monitored Zechs' movement. The ginger-blond man gave a sigh of relieve when he found that it appeared to be working properly.

__

What am I going to do with you, Zechs?  


***

Zechs, coming from the garden, walked into his room and came to a sudden halt. Brows furrowed at the disarray he found and the man who appeared to be the source of the chaos.

"What the hell? What did you do to my room?"  
"Your room?" Treize asked, without as much as a trace of humor in his voice. "If I remember right this room came with the house when I purchased it."  
"Right," the boy retorted angrily. "I suppose that gives you the right to barge in here and throw my stuff around."  
"Antòn is missing some tools. Where are they?" the ginger blond man asked, ignoring the boy's sarcasm.

__

So, that's what you are looking for? Zechs let his gaze roam, almost rolling his eyes. _You checked under the mattress? Oh, please, how dumb do you think I am?_

"If you were planning on attempting to remove your bracelet, I'd strongly advice against it. There are less painful ways to commit suicide," Treize stated bluntly. 

There was a quick flicker of concern in the boy's eyes.

"I take it you didn't know that the designers of the device take a lot of pride in the fact that nobody has ever survived an attempt to remove one of these bracelets?"  
Concern turned to shock. Zechs swallowed convulsively, mouth suddenly gone dry.

"You will return the tools immediately, then straighten up the room," Treize ordered. "And from now on you will stay out of the garage. Did I make myself clear?"  
"Perfectly clear." 

"What were you thinking? Let's assume for only a moment you would have succeeded and gotten rid of that bracelet, what then? You have no money, you have no ID, and you have no idea what life on the street is like."

"I would have found a way," Zechs growled, irritated about the fact that Treize probably was right. _I'm sure there has to be something that's more dignifying than playing the lackey for you or digging around in your rose garden? _  
He didn't even realize that he had spoken those last words out loud until he saw the expression on Treize's face change.  
"You are quite an ungrateful little brat, do you know that?" It sounded more disappointed than angry.

Very well aware that he had gone too far already, but too angry and stubborn to atone, Zechs retorted. "What exactly am I supposed to be grateful about?" 

"To begin with, you should be grateful for being here and not locked up in a labor camp on some resource satellite. Do you have any idea what it took to keep you out of prison? You can't even begin to imagine how many strings I had to pull and favors to call in."  
"Well, forgive me for all the trouble I caused you, but I don't remember ever asking you to bring me here in the first place. I never asked for your help and quite frankly I never **wanted** it," Zechs snapped as he started to walk away past the general toward the bathroom. But Treize didn't let that happen. He took hold of the boy's arm, an angry sparkle in his eyes the only trace that he was enraged. He wasn't going to tolerate Zechs' lack of manners and respect any longer. Treize preferred the use of sugar when dealing with people, but he knew occasionally it took the whip to bring an overly spirited creature to heel and it seemed that in Zechs' case a lash with the whip was long overdue.

Before the boy even could react he was shoved and pinned against the wall.   
"Then tell me, what exactly **do** you want?" the ginger-blond man asked coldly, squeezing the boy's wrists hard enough to leave marks. Blue eyes wide in shock, Zechs stared at the general. Treize suddenly flipped him over so that he faced the wall, pressing the boy's head against it with one hand, while the other hand slipped into the waistband of his pants. Zechs gasped, froze, too shocked to even fight back, as the general pushed one knee between his legs, forcing them apart. He could feel Treize's body pressed against his, feel him breathing against his neck and he couldn't fight back a shudder.

"Is this what you want?" Treize asked brutally. "Did you think what those guards did to you was bad? Think again. You can't even begin to imagine what would happen to somebody with your body and your face in jail. If you were lucky some high-ranking guard would find interest in you and wouldn't allow anybody else to touch you. Otherwise you would probably be passed around like a bottle of cheap wine. Now how dignifying does that sound?"  
As suddenly as he had seized him Treize let go of the blond and stepped back.  
"I'm starting to agree with you that bringing you here was a bad idea. So don't tempt me or you **will** find yourself in lock up quicker than you think," he warned before walking out of the room.  
A sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach, Zechs managed to keep himself upright on trembling legs until the door closed, he then slummed onto his bed. He closed his eyes and for the longest time just sat, clearly shaken up. If Treize had intended to scare some sense into him it had worked. And the worst was that Zechs was very well aware that the man was correct. He knew that he had been acting like the ungrateful brat the general took him for. He knew it wasn't Treize he hated. But his rage against the Alliance and his built up frustration made him lash out at the only person he could lash out at.

Zechs sighed as he finally rose to his feet. He gazed at the mess in the room for a moment before he went to retrieve the tools he had hidden in the garden, not daring to anger Treize any further at the moment.

***

For the next few days Zechs managed to avoid the general, even if it meant to skip breakfast and eat supper early before Treize got home.   
Then in the late evening of the 4th day after their confrontation, the blond youth walked into the study to exchange the book he had borrowed for another one, unaware that the general wasn't in his office working as he usually did after supper. He found Treize sitting, with a glass of red wine in his hand, over a chessboard. Realizing that it was impossible to turn around and leave, Zechs gave the man a polite nod, which was curtly returned.  
"I was only looking for something to read," he explained.  
Treize just nodded, but when the boy went to one of the large shelves to return the book in his hand to his original place, the general suddenly asked.   
"Did you like it?"  
"I beg your pardon?"  
"The book, did you like it?"  
"Oh, yes," Zechs replied. "I suppose historical fiction has always interested me."  
"Is that so? In that case" Treize got up, walked over to the shelf himself and retrieved a large leather bound book. "You might enjoy this one too. It's one of my personal favorites."  
"Manfredi?! I think I read one of his books before. Thanks, I guess I'll give it a try," the blond answered. He was about to turn and leave when the general said:

"This place is much more comfortable than your bedroom. You do not have to sit up there by yourself you know."  
Zechs hesitated for a moment, torn between just wanting to get out of the room and a strange longing for somebody's company. "Are you sure I won't be disturbing you?"  
"How much of a disturbance can reading a book be?" Treize asked in amusement, as he went back to where he had been sitting. "Feel free to stay if you like."  
The boy made himself comfortable on a rug by the fireplace and started reading, unaware that the general was watching him more than his game-board. The change in Zechs' attitude had not gone unnoticed.

__

It appears that my tactic is working. Maybe its time for some sugar again?   
"Do you play chess?" Treize asked after a while. Looking up from his book Zechs shrugged.   
"I used to. I have not played it in quite a while."  
"I have not had anybody to play with in a long time either. Would you do me the honor?"   
"Sure, why not?" Zechs put his book aside and went over to the chessboard, where Treize already set up the figures.  
They played quietly for most of the game. The youth, finding the general's tactics a little puzzling, stared at the board with furrowed brows.  
"Something wrong?" Treize asked. Zechs shook his head as he placed his bishop.  
"No, I'm just trying to figure out what you are doing. You can't win this game with a defensive only strategy. – Check."  
Treize laughed softly as he answered with a castling move (1). "I'm not planning to. I just like to keep my back covered before starting my own attack."  
Zechs' frown deepened. Just like that his opponent had brought his rook, which had been stuck behind a wall of pawns, into play and forced the boy to make a defensive move.  
The general moved his queen and looked up at the boy. "Checkmate. Nice game."  
Zechs growled in frustration as he scowled at the chessboard, replaying every move of the game in his head, determined to find out where he went wrong. 

"I demand a rematch," he declared.  
The general smiled softly. "As you wish. But not tonight. It is getting rather late."  
Zechs nodded, as he got up from his chair. Picking up the book he had left by the fireplace he bid good night to the older man and left. As the youth walked out of the room, Treize smiled to himself in satisfaction, knowing that he had scored another small victory on the long road to winning his battle.

* * *

TBC

Author's notes:   
(1) - A castling move is a defensive move in which both king and rook can be moved at the same time.   
  
**What's to come:** Part 7 - Finding Common Ground  
Zechs is torn between what he considers his duty toward his family and his growing feelings for Treize.

Please R&R! Remember your reviews are the only compensation I receive for my efforts, so please be generous. :-)


	8. Finding Common Ground

Thanks to all of those reviewing my story. 

* * *

****

Whatever It Takes – Book I: Time of Choices

Part 7 –Finding Common Ground

As time went on Zechs couldn't help but notice that he was beginning to enjoyed being around Treize. It confused him to no end, yet he couldn't deny that he actually was looking forward to those evenings he and the ginger-blond general spend playing chess, billiard or just talking about everything and nothing. He started to appreciate little things about Treize, like the man's keen sense of humor.

Yet he was convinced that it had to be a result of him being isolated most of the time. Max wasn't much of a person to keep company with and Zechs rarely saw Antòn anymore since he was forbidden to go near the garage. Humans are social animals, so it was only natural that he sought the companionship of the only person he was able to socialize with. Treize was probably very well aware of that fact and took advantage of it. At least that was what he kept telling himself, because it was so much easier to accept that, then to admit to himself that he actually was starting to like the general.

***

When Zechs came back from his morning run, he had made it a daily routine to jog the inner perimeters of the estate to keep himself fit, he noticed the black limousine in front of the villa. The hood of the car was popped open and Jeremy, one of Treize's chauffeurs, was staring at the engine with a lost look on his face.

"What's the problem?" Zechs asked as he stepped closer.   
"I have no idea." The man shrugged. "I only drive those things I don't fix them. The engine started to stutter when I came up the driveway and suddenly it died on me and now I can't get it to start anymore. – Where is Antòn if you need him? I paged him already twice."  
"He is probably still at home. It is rather early," Zechs pointed out.  
Jeremy moaned. " His Excellency has an early meeting. He is going to rip my head off if I don't get him there on time."

"We can't let that happen now, can we?" Zechs grinned. "Let me take a look maybe we don't even need Antòn. It sounds to me like you might have a loose power connection or something."  
"You **do **know what you are doing, right?" the man asked skeptically as Zechs upper torso disappeared under the hood. The youth rolled his eyes and began to check the power cables one by one by removing them, cleaning the connectors and putting them back on. One of the cables stubbornly refused to come off. Zechs pushed harder and probably applied a little more pressure than needed. As a result his hand slipped as the nut finally moved. He could feel a piercing pain as he cut the palm of his hand on something sharp.  
"Damn it," he cursed.  
Ignoring the stinging he finished checking the last two cables then popped his head out from under the hood.  
"Give it a try," he told the chauffeur.  
Jeremy climbed behind the wheel and hit the starter, letting out a sigh of relieve as the engine began to purr like a satisfied kitten.  
Zechs was closing the hood of the car as the general stepped out of the house.

"I thought I made it clear that I wanted you to stay away from the cars." There was a slightly irritated edge in Treize's voice.  
"No actually," Zechs corrected pertly. "You told me to stay away from the garage. And I'm nowhere near the garage, am I?"  
Treize had a sharp reply on his tongue but then he noticed some rust-colored spatters on the concrete at the boy's feet. Zechs' right hand was clenched, blood dripping from between his fingers and mild anger turned to concern in a heartbeat.  
"What happened?"  
"It's nothing," the boy answered evasively.  
"You are bleeding, so it's certainly something," Treize disagreed.  
"I cut myself, but it's nothing. Really!" Now Zechs sounded irritated.  
"Let me determine that." The general pulled off his white gloves as he game down the stairway, toward the boy. "Let me see," he demanded.  
Sighing in exasperation Zechs held out his hand and opened it. Treize breathed in sharply at the sight of the wound. It was a long cut across the entire length of the palm, but with all the blood that now started to flow freely it was hard too tell how deep it was.   
"Let me see you move your fingers." he asked, taking the blonde's hand carefully into his own, noting in satisfaction that the boy had mobility in all of his fingers.

"Max, get me a towel," the ginger-blond man called over his shoulder, knowing that the butler would be somewhere close by, and in Zechs' direction. "You might need to get some stitches."

Moments later the servant was back with the towel and Treize wrapped it loosely around the boy's hand.  
"Let's get the wound cleaned so I can see if you do need a doctor."  
The general took Zechs by his shoulder directing him into the house and one of the upstairs bathrooms. The boy sat down on the rim of the bathtub while Treize filled a basin with warm water and rummaged in the medicine cabinet for a bottle of antiseptic and some gauze. Squatting down in front of Zechs the general started to remove the towel.  
"You will get blood all over your uniform," the blond warned.  
"Don't worry, I have more than one set." Treize noted in relief that the blood flow has lessened considerably. He started cleaning the wound with warm water, carefully so he wouldn't start the bleeding again. Reaching for a sterile compress and the bottle of antiseptic the ginger blond man looked up at the boy.  
"Tell me if it hurts."  
Zechs nodded, teeth pressed into his lower lip, but not because of the pain. Only once before had Treize touched in like this. Back at the military base, after those guards had attempted to rape him, the general had cleaned the blood from his face. Back then the contact had terrified him. This time the general's touches sent shivers down his spine for a completely different reason. 

When Treize leaned in a little to get a better look, the musky scent of the general's cologne combined with the sweeter smell of the man's shampoo hit Zechs. Closing his eyes momentarily, he savored the fragrance that was both, spicy and sweet, masculine yet mild, just like the man it radiated from.  
"It looks like you won't need stitches after all."  
For just a moment Treize's hand rested on the boy's left thigh, but it was all it took to send a rush of blood toward his groin, creating a stirring in his manhood.  
Confused and afraid that the general might notice, Zechs withdrew his hand, jumped up and "fled".  
"See, I told you it was nothing."   
Treize blinked. _I wonder what brought that on_?

"That doesn't mean your hand won't need to be bandaged. Get back here."  
"I can take care of it myself," Zechs answered. "You better leave or you will be late for your meeting."

***

Zechs uttered a sigh of relieve when the general's limousine pulled out of the driveway. His hand was dressed in a white bandage and since he had been told not to work in the garden till the cut was sufficiently healed, the blond had retreated into the study. He was sitting in one of the large chairs by the fireplace reading a book or more precisely he was trying to read a book, but he found it hard to concentrate. His mind kept going back to what had happened earlier. He couldn't deny that he had enjoyed Treize's closeness, the gentleness of the man's fingers, and it was no surprise that his body had reacted accordingly. But it wasn't supposed to happen.

__

What the hell is wrong with me? Do I have no honor and no regard for the honor of my dead family? How can I allow myself to have feelings like that toward Treize?

***

Treize was sitting in one of the leather seats in his shuttle lost in thought, one leg draped over the other in a casual manner, his white gloved hands, fingers interlaced, resting on his stomach.   
Another two hours or so until the shuttle reached its destination. He had been gone for almost a week and was looking forward to being at home again. He had spent way too much time away lately. He even had missed Zechs 17th birthday. But the general had promised himself that he would make it up to the boy, somehow.   
_The boy_, Treize smiled to himself. _I really ought to stop calling him that. Another growth spurt and he will be as tall as I am. He is turning into a young man right before my eyes and he is even more handsome than he was back when I met him, if that's even possible._

The general felt as if he was finally, little by little, starting to break through those walls Zechs had put up around himself. He had been very patient with the blond and finally his effort was beginning to pay off. He cherished those moments when he was able to coax a smile out of the usually so serious boy or got him to open up a little. But they had still a long way to go. Zechs still didn't like to talk about his past and became greatly defensive if he, Treize, tried to question him about it. But he had learned to deal with that and even with those temper fits that Zechs threw occasionally. What worried him much more were the frequent nightmares the boy was suffering from. Zechs never spoke of them and the general didn't feel he had the right to ask. Still he wondered what it was that made the boy cry out at night. Sometimes it was so bad that Treize wanted to do nothing more than storm into the blonde's room, take him into his arms and comfort him, but of course he knew that Zechs would never forgive him if he did. Sometimes the boy was just too proud for his own good.

Dark-gray storm clouds were brewing overhead when the shuttle touched down. Treize looked up at the sky as he was waiting for his limousine to pull up. On a few places the sun was still breaking through the cloud cover, but there was already a distinct smell of rain in the air. It looked like a heavy thunderstorm was going to hit the area soon.

***

"Dinner is served, your Excellency."  
The general looked up from his computer, giving the grey-haired man a polite nod. "Thank you, Max. Let Zechs know I'll be there in just a few moments. He may start without me if he is hungry."  
"I'm afraid Master Zechs won't be dining with you tonight, Sir," the butler explained. "He wasn't feeling well today and retired to his room."  
"Is that so?" Treize asked. That would certainly explain why he hadn't seen the youth since his arrival. "Did he eat anything?"  
"I took the liberty to bring him some soup upstairs but he said he wasn't hungry."  
"Thank you. I'll check on him later myself."  
The butler retreated with a bow and Treize finished up his report. He decided to check on Zechs before he went downstairs. Outside the boy's room he listened for a moment. Everything was quiet. The general knocked, then opened the door quietly, expecting to find the blond asleep. But to his surprise Zechs wasn't even in his room. After a moment of consideration the ginger-blond man went back into his office checking out the boy's whereabouts, finding him somewhere in the garden.  
_Well, he appears not to be that sick after all,_ Treize thought in relief as he went downstairs to eat.  
The general spent another few hours after dinner finishing up paperwork. By the time he finally withdrew to his bedroom it was almost midnight. Treize opened the double doors leading to a narrow balcony and stepped outside. It had indeed started to rain a couple hours earlier and the air was crisp and clean. Breathing in deeply the smell of wet dirt and flowers the ginger-blond man leaned against the banister and stared into the night. Brows furrowed when he noticed a figure sitting in the rain.   
_Zechs?_  
Treize turned and headed for the garden, grabbing a jacket on the way out of his room. He found the blond, wet as a dog, on a bench near one of the fountains.  
"Zechs, what are you doing out here?"  
The boy turned toward him, surprised. "Treize, when did you come home?"  
"Hours ago. Max told me you were not feeling well. What are you doing sitting out here?"  
Zechs raised his hand to push a few soaking wet stands of hair out of his face. "I had to do some thinking."  
One of Treize's eyebrows rose in surprise. "In the middle of the night, in the pouring rain?"

The boy looked up at the sky as if he only now realized that it was raining. "It wasn't raining when I came out here."  
"You are soaking wet, let's get you inside," Treize suggested, hanging his jacket around the boy's shoulders, directing him toward the house. Max must have seen them coming because he was waiting in the entrance with a couple of towels in his hand.  
"I'll go and prepare some tea," he offered, walking off into the direction of the kitchen.  
Treize could swear the man never slept.   
When they walked into Zechs room the general became aware of something he didn't notice earlier. The air in was heavy with the sweet smell of flowers. It surprised Treize somewhat to see a large bunch of yellow tea roses in a crystal vase on the table. Zechs never kept flowers in his room. Following the general's gaze the boy gave a wry smile.  
"I suppose I should have asked."  
Treize frowned. "Don't be silly. If you want to put roses in your room by all mean do so. Take one, take a bouquet, or take a whole bucket full for all I care. It's not like there aren't have enough of them. "And with a look at the drenched and shivering figure in front of him he continued. "You should change into something dry and get in bed. I'll go get the tea."  
He left to give the blond some privacy and when he got back with a cup of steaming hot tea Zechs was sitting in his bed. His towel-dried hair was still damp and darker than usually.  
Treize sat down on the edge of the bed.  
"Careful now, it's hot," he warned as he handed the cup to the boy.  
Zechs nodded in acknowledgement. He took a few small sips them put the teacup onto the table by the bed. For a moment he just stared down into his lap and there was an awkward silence. Treize was just about to asked the boy what was wrong when Zechs raised his head and looked at the flowers on the table.  
"42."  
The general gave him a puzzled look.

"Today would have been my mother's birthday," Zechs' explained, voice was barely above a whisper. "She would have been 42 I think. I remember how much she loved yellow roses. It's strange, but it's the little things I remember the most about her."

Treize looked at the boy. He wanted to say something, wanted to express his sympathy, but knew it would only sound like empty words so he put his harm around Zechs instead, pulling the boy against him in a comforting manner. He wasn't sure if he was doing the right thing, but when the blond didn't resist he raised his hand and gently stroke his head. At first Zechs only let it happen, but then the general could feel how his body began to relax. He leaned into Treize's embrace, bringing their bodies closer together and put his own arms around the older man. For the longest time they remained just sitting like this, silently, then Zechs moved even closer. It caught Treize by surprise when the blond suddenly placed a kiss onto his neck, very soft and very cautiously.  
The general took in a sharp breath.   
"Zechs?"  
Zechs pushed back a little, bringing some distance between himself and Treize. Their eyes locked for a moment before he leaned in and covered the older man's lips with his own. One hand behind the general's head buried in the man's ginger-blond hair, holding him close. His tongue traced the man's lips trying to coax him into opening them. But when he realized Treize didn't return the kiss he pulled back, giving the ginger blond man a confused look.

"Zechs, we shouldn't do this."

"Why not? You could stay here with me tonight, Treize," Zechs offered, his arms still around the general's neck. "You don't have to go."  
There was a part in Treize that wanted nothing more than to take Zechs, push him back onto the bed and force his tongue down the boy's throat. He wanted to run his hands all over Zechs silky skin, taste every part of the boy's perfectly shaped body and ravish him. He knew Zechs wouldn't resist, would consent to everything and let him have his way. But **this** was not how he wanted it to happen. He knew it wasn't love and desire that was driving Zechs into his arms tonight, but pain and grief. He couldn't take advantage of the boy's vulnerability.  
"Yes I do." Gently Treize freed himself from Zechs embrace and rose. "We both know that. Good night, Zechs."  
He knew he was hurting Zechs by rejecting him now. But it was better than spending a night together and spending a lifetime regretting it.

***

The general was standing in front of the large mirror in his bedroom, adjusting his uniform when he was interrupted by a knock the door.   
"Come in!"

The door opened and Max bowed politely as he stepped into the room.  
"What is it?" Treize asked without turning his head.  
"It's Master Zechs, your Excellency. I can't seem to wake him up."  
"It's alright. Let him sleep in. He had a rather rough night," the general told the man.  
"No, your Excellency, I believe you don't understand," the butler replied, his usually flat voice underlined with concern. "He is just not waking up. I'm afraid that he might be sick."

* * *

TBC

Author's notes:   
  
**What's to come:** Part 8- Visions of the Past  
Treize takes care of a sick Zechs. Things about Zechs' past will be revealed like how he became to be Zechs Merquise

Please R&R! Remember your reviews are the only compensation I receive for my efforts, so please be generous. :-)


	9. Visions of the Past

Thanks to those reviewing my story.   


* * *

****

Whatever It Takes – Book I: Time of Choices

Part 8 – Visions of the Past

Zechs' breathing was rugged, his face slightly flushed, sweat-dampened bangs clinging to his forehead.   
"Zechs, wake up! Zechs?! Can you hear me?"

Concerned about the boy's lack of response Treize reached out, laying his hand on Zechs' forehead. The skin was hot and sweaty to the touch.   
"Max, go call Doctor Schlegel," the general instructed the grey-haired servant, as he went to retrieve a thermometer. Checking the boy's temperature he swore. 104.8. That was not good and he knew that he had to do something to bring that temperature down. He left the room again and came back with a basin filled with water and several wash-clothes. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, the water bowl on the nightstand in front of him, he soaked one cloth in the cool liquid and laid it over the boy's forehead. He unbuttoned the front of Zechs' pajama top, eased one arm under the boy's back, supporting him as slipped the garment over his shoulders.  
Zechs was murmuring barely audible, incoherent words as the general begun to bath his chest with cold water in an attempt to cool him down. Treize didn't even turn his head when he heard somebody enter the room.  
"Doctor Schlegel is on his way, Sir," the butler informed him from behind. "Do you want me to take over?"  
"No thank you, Max. I think I'm doing all right. Just let me know when the doctor gets here."  
"As you wish, your Excellency."

The doctor arrived a little more than 45 minutes after the call. Max showed the man upstairs to Zechs' room. Dr. Schlegel, an elderly man with thinning white hair but a youthful sparkly in his green eyes, was the personal physician to the Khushrenada family for as long as Treize could remember. He had retired from his practice a long time ago and his son had taken over all but a handful of his patients.  
"Doctor, I'm glad you could make it," Treize greeted the man, and then with a gesture toward the bed continued. "He didn't feel well since yesterday, but was outside in the rain for a while."  
"Actually I'm glad you called me, Treize," the doctor answered with a smirk. "Another 30 minutes or so and I would have been off to yet another dull day spent in the company of Duke Beritov. The man is such a bore, but he is family and I feel obligatedWhich reminds me" He set down his medical bag, opened it and pulled on a pair of thin gloves. "I spoke with your mother just a few weeks ago. How long has it been since you visited your family, Treize?"  
_Too long, way too long_, the general thought with a sting of guilt. Since most of his family lived in Kiev now, it was hard to make the time or effort to visit them. And then of course there were certain members of his extended family he had no desire to see.  
The old man looked at him from over his shoulder when Treize didn't answer, giving him a "just as I expected" look. He began the examination of his patient by pulling down Zechs' eyelids, shining a light into his eyes and watching the reaction of his pupils. Picking up the boy's left arm to check his pulse, the doctor noticed the slim silvery bracelet around his patient's wrist. Shaking his head slightly he asked in a teasing voice,

"You are still picking up helpless wild things and care for them? I thought you would have outgrown that by now."  
Treize snorted in exasperation.  
"I guess it's none of my concern," the old man continued as he peeled away Zechs' pajama top and pressed his stethoscope against the boy's chest. "Just remember sometimes it backfires. Like that wild dog you picked up once. Even with all the affection you gave it, it never really trusted anybody. And in the end your father had to put it down, but not after it bit you."  
Yes he remembered. He still had the scars to show for.   
"This one is different, Dr. I'm sure we won't have to put him down." Treize smirked.  
The doctor finished his examination in silence. When he put away his instruments he turned to the general.   
"His lunges are clear and his heartbeat is a little fast, but steady. Other than the high fever I can't find anything wrong with him." He pulled a syringe out of his bag, filled it and gave the needle a practiced flick. "I'll give him something that should bring the temperature down and I'll be back later this afternoon to check on him." He administered the injection then looked back at Treize. "If he becomes too dehydrated I might have to set up a IV."  
The general nodded in acknowledgement as the doctor removed his gloves and discarded them along with the empty syringe.  
"Thank you doctor."  
Treize led the old man outside then contacted Lieutenant Walker to inform him that we could be reached at home for the rest of the day. He changed from his uniform into a more comfortable outfit before he went back to Zechs' room.

***

Soldier's clad in gray uniforms, weapons aimed to kill a room erupting in gunfire drowning out screams of horror and pain smell of blood and death   
"No, Noooooo!!!!" Zechs screamed as he once again relived the horrible nightmare that took away his family and changed his life forever.   
Treize, seated on the edge of the bed, murmured soothing words of comfort as he dabbed Zechs' fever-heated face with a cold and wet cloth. He had not left the boy's side all day, concerned that even with the medicine the doctor gave him in his system, Zechs' temperature didn't drop. With a feeling of helplessness, Treize watched the boy tossed and turned.

__

What happened to you, Zechs? I wish I knew your secret that tortures you night after night? I wish I could make those memories go away.

:::Begin of Flashback:::  


****

For a 4-year-old boy the world is full of wonder. Everywhere are new discoveries to make a new puddle to jump into, a new bug to taste or a whole array of blinking lights and fireworks to watch on the horizon

Milliardo hadn't intended to run off, he had only been looking for a spot from where he had a better view of the fireworks that were so close now.  


****

But when you an adult, wonders tent to have more mundane explanations  
"Your Highness," Captain DeLancey, head of the royal security force, gave the king a crisp salute. "The Alliance has landed another wave of mobile suit units near the capital. It's to assume that they will reach the palace gates in less than 15 minutes. If we throw everything we have at them we should be able to hold them for another 10 – 15 minutes. That should give us enough time to get you out of here safely, along with your family."  
"No, Captain," Stephán Peacecraft, monarch to the Sanc Kingdom objected. " There is no need to sacrifice more people than necessary. My mind is made up. I'll stay here at Sanc together with my people."

"I beg you to reconsider, your Highness. You will be a much greater help to your people if you are in a place of safety and alive."

"Captain, I don't think that even the Alliance would dare to go as far as to harm me." But then again, less than 2 hour ago he would have sworn the Unites Earth Sphere Alliance wouldn't dare to attack a neutral, pacifistic country like the Sank Kingdom either. But the king's concern for his own safety was outweighed by his concern for his country and most important his family.  
"Have my wife and children left yet?"  
As if on cue the door to the king's study flew open and Katerina Peacecraft, her daughter in her arm stormed in, followed by a gray-haired servant.  
"Katerina, what are you still doing here? I thought you and the children had left."  
"I can not find Milliardo." There was an edge of panic in her voice. "He was with me at one moment and when I turned around to check on something he was gone."   
"Captain, I'll want every available man looking for the crown prince." The king ordered.

DeLancey nodded in acknowledgement.   
"I'll see to it. But may I suggest that Queen Katerina and the princess leave now. If we wait any longer there is no guaranty that they will be able to make it through."   
Stephán looked at his wife in concern. "The Captain is right, you need to leave."  
"I'm not leaving without Milliardo." Katerina's voice left no room for arguments as she handed the toddler off to the gray-haired servant. "Paigan, you will take Relena and leave with her. I'll find Milliardo and we will follow shortly."  
Paigan gave the King a questioning look and Stephán nodded his consent, knowing that he wouldn't be able to change his wife's mind even if he tried."

***

From just inside the palace gates Milliardo watched the approaching mobile suits, filled with awe rather than fear at the sight. In his childish innocence, unfamiliar with any kind of violence, the young prince didn't even realize the danger he was in, as one of the metallic monsters aimed its beam rifle at the palace gate.  
"Prince Milliardo!"  
He jerked around just as he was seized from behind, recognizing the familiar uniform of a palace guard. The man grabbed him and jumped for cover, protecting the boy's body with his own larger frame as all hell broke loose.  
The mobile suit fired, ripping the heavy metal gates from their hinges, debris and rocks was flying in every direction possible.  
As the shelling stopped Milliardo waited, trembling, for the guard to move, but when he never did the boy freed himself from beneath the man. Blue eyes went wide in shock as he stared at the bloodied, broken body on the ground. He turned and scurried away, trying to find his parents, Paigan, anybody, and ran right into the arms of two soldiers in gray uniforms. Before he could turn one of them seized him by the back of his shirt.

"Look what I caught."  
"Letgo." The soldier looked in slight amusement at the kicking and wriggling bundle.  
"He is a spunky little one."  
The other soldier laughed. "Careful he might bite."  
"Milliardo." There was a tone in his mother's voice he had never heard before, terror.

He felt himself being released as both soldiers brought up their weapons, and ran into the relative safety of his mother's arms. Katerina picked up her son, hugging him tightly. Terrified he clung onto her for dear life as the soldiers escorted them to the great hall, where other people, including his father were already gathered. With the faith of a 4-year-old believing his father to be invincible and able to fix everything bad in life, Milliardo felt himself relax. The soldiers wouldn't let them get close to each other, but Stephán managed to give his wife and son an encouraging smile. A dozen or so Alliance soldier guarded them as more people were prodded into the room. Relatives, servants, guards, some of them bleeding, most of them terrified.  
Another Alliance soldier entered the room. Milliardo watched his father trying to approach the man.  
"What do you think you are doing, Captain? I'm protesting against this treatment. You can not"  
Milliardos ice-blue eyes went wide in shock as one of the soldiers struck the king with his weapon. His father managed to keep his balance, blood starting to trickle from a wound in his face where the gun had hit him.  
"Daddy!"  
The boy tried to struggle himself free, but his mother held him tightly.  
"Hush Milliardo. It's okay." She whispered to him. "Everything is going to be okay."  
"Are these all?" the Alliance Captain asked nonchalant.  
"Yes Sir," one of the soldiers answered.  
"Kill them!" With those words the captain turned around and left.   
The room had gone quiet, there was no sound, and not even a single breath until the silence was disrupted by metallic clicks of safety catches being released.

The king opened his mouth to protest but his words drowned in the sound of guns being discharged. When the gunfire stopped the floor was littered with bloodied, bullet riddled bodies and the walls covered in blood and brain tissue. One of the soldiers pulled his sidearm and went from body to body finishing off anyone who was still moving with a shot in the head. Milliardo's tiny, blood covered figure beneath his mother's body went unnoticed

::: End of Flashback :::

***

The doctor had given Zechs another injection and to Treize's relieve the boy seemed finally to have fallen into a deep, dreamless sleep.  
The general had decided to stay with Zechs in case the boy was going to need him during the night. He had moved a reclining chair next to the bed and was typing on his laptop, occasionally interrupting his work to gaze at the sleeping boy. He was waiting for a call from his aid. Since Treize couldn't risk it to communicate with Une directly from his home he had Lieutenant Walker establish the contact for him via a secure connection. A low chime indicated the incoming call.   
Treize returned the Colonel's salute with a polite nod.  
"Lady, I need your help."  
"What can I do for you, your Excellency?"  
"I'm about to send you a number of files. I need one of your computer specialists to check them for me. These are all files accessed by somebody who hacked into the Alliance database. I need to know if it is possible to find out what the person was looking for."

"Hmm," Une said. "The same mysterious hacker you informed me about several weeks ago?"  
Treize nodded. "The same."  
"Very well, I'm sure that can be done. When do you need the results?"  
"Yesterday." The general sighed, slapping himself mentally for not having pursued this route earlier.   
"Your Excellency?"  
"As soon as possible, Lady."  
The woman nodded in acknowledgement. "I'll contact you when I have the information."

"Thank you," Treize smiled at her. "Once again you prove how important you are to me."

* * *

TBC

Author's notes: This one was really hard to write. Trying to put myself into the mind of a 4-year old was not easy.  
  
**What's to come:** Part 9 - Hanging On  
Continues the story of Zech's past. Treize still takes care of him during his illness and at the same time tries to discover Zechs secret

Please R&R! Remember your reviews are the only compensation I receive for my efforts, so please be generous. :-)


	10. Hanging On

Thanks to all of those reviewing my story. 

* * *

****

Whatever It Takes – Book I: Time of Choices

Part 9 – Hanging On

__

Painthe smell of blood and smokedrifting in and out of consciousness; the memories never faded even after all these years. He could keep them at bay during the day, but at night they still haunted him. Sometimes the nightmares were so realistic that he woke up with phantom pain in his shoulder and the smell of smoke in his nose.  
  
:::Begin of Flashback:::  


The Alliance used the cover of darkness to dispose of the corpses in the Royal Palace. There was no formal funeral, no gravestone, nothing but a massive hole dug in a remote wooded area. Commander Jones and his team had been assigned "cleanup" duty. The Commander watched as his men dragged the bodies away one by one, throwing them unceremoniously onto the bed of a large military truck. Most of the soldiers were a little pale around the nose. The stench of blood and gore had been so overwhelming when they first entered the room that a few of them had lost their dinner.  
"Um Commander," a voice called out for him. 

"What is it?"  
"Wewe found somebody who is still alive. What do you want us to do?"  
Jones sighed as he walked inside.  
_For god sake, is it too much to expect that they at least would have made sure everybody was dead?_  
One of the soldiers pointed at a bundle on the floor, while the others removed the last remaining bodies. The commander froze.

__

Good Lord, a child! They executed an innocent little child? His only crime was that he was born a Peacecraft.   
Part of him screamed that this wasn't right, that even war should not justify the murder of women and children, while another part of him kept reminding him that he was a soldier who had his orders.  
The child, a boy maybe 4 or 5 years old, was covered in dried blood. He lay motionless, probably unconscious Jones assumed, and only the irregular rising and falling of his chest gave away that he was still alive.  
"Finish up here and wait for me outside. I'll take care of this myself," the commander ordered as he pulled his sidearm and his men were only too happy to comply.

__

Lord, forgive me, Jones prayed as he aimed his gun at the child's head to deliver one last deadly shot. Just then the boy's eyelids fluttered. Ice-blue eyes looked directly at the commander and he swallowed convulsively, mouth suddenly gone dry. The boy didn't cry or whimper; he didn't make a sound at all, just stared at him with those large blue eyes. The gun began to tremble in Jones' hand as if it had suddenly become too heavy, and he had to remind himself once again that he was only following orders.  
A single gunshot rang through the ruins of what used to be the royal palace. Moments later Commander Jones joined his men waiting for him in a military jeep, his face an unreadable mask.  
"What happened to your jacket, Commander?"  
"I got blood all over it. I just tossed it into the truck. – Now lets get going so we get this over with as soon as possible."

::: End of Flashback:::

***

"Are you feeling alright, your Excellency?" Walker asked concerned.  
Treize had spend the past three nights watching over Zechs, who had still a high fever, and it was starting to show. Although he had gotten a couple hours of sleep here and there, a reclining chair is not the most comfortable resting-place.   
"I'm fine," he assured his aid. "Do you have any news for me?"  
"Colonel Une's report came in, Sir."  
"Ah, yes. – Let's see what she has found out," the general said enthusiastically, opening the file the Lieutenant had sent him. But his excitement turned to disappointment and frustration quickly when he realized that the report didn't hold the answers that he had hoped for.

"So he was searching for old files about the attack on the Sanc Kingdom," Treize said. He had turned off the video connection, so that he could read the report while he was talking to his aid. "I know his family left Sanc soon after the occupation started, but what interest would he have in those files."  
"Maybe he is looking for somebody," Lieutenant Walker suggested, not realizing how close he was to the truth. "Perhaps there were some members of his extended family that stayed behind and after his parents died he was trying to find them?"  
"I suppose that could be possible, but he wouldn't find that kind of information in old military debriefings," Treize said as he scowled over his computer screen searching for something that might have been missed. "Besides I'm pretty sure that any important or compromising files have been destroyed a long time ago. I'm surprised"  
Treize swallowed the rest of the sentence and frowned as his gaze fell upon a photo of the Peacecrafts, probably one of the last pictures ever taken of the royal family. Queen Katerina was holding the infant princess in her arms, while the young crown prince was standing between his parents, his father's hand resting on his shoulder. Treize found himself staring at he King's face and his frown deepened. Was there a slight resemblance between the man and Zechs or was he just imagining that? The general magnified the picture so that he could get a better look at Prince Milliardo. The boy had the same icy blue eyes as Zechs, no doubt about it and the flaxen color of his hair was very similar. But then, that wasn't very surprising. Blond hair was very common amongst people of northern European decent. But stillCould it be that Zechs Merquise was really Milliardo Peacecraft? Was this the secret the boy was trying so desperately to hide? But was it even possible that a member of the Peacecraft family survived?

"Your Excellency?" Walker asked, surprised about the sudden silence.

"Please hold on for a moment. I think I might have found something very interesting."  
Treize blew up the photo a couple more times and cropped it so that he was left with only a upper body shot of the young prince, before sending the picture to his aid.  
"Lieutenant, I need you to get this picture altered. Have the boy's appearance aged to show what he might look like at about 17 years old. And then I have some more "detective work" for you to do."

***

Dr. Schlegel was replacing Zechs' IV when Treize walked into the room. The doctor had been checking on him twice a day over the past 3 days and the general felt very confident that the boy received the best care he could get. 

"Doctor, I can't even begin to tell you how much I appreciate that you are going through all this trouble for us." 

"Never thank the doctor until you see the bill, Treize," the old man said with a smirk.  
The general answered with a tired smile. Stepping closer to the bed he glanced worriedly at the boy. Zechs face was pale, his forehead covered with sweat, his lips dry and chapped.   
"How is he doing? I'm concerned that he still hasn't woken up."  
"He should wake once his fever breaks," Doctor Schlegel answered as he began to put away his instruments.  
"How did he get so sick so quickly? I can imagine that sitting out in the rain had something to do with it, but this isn't just a simple cold." Treize looked at the old man questioningly.  
"Actually I suppose it is rather a combination of many factors," the doctor explained. "The human body and mind can only take so much. If they are pushed to their limit they will eventually give out on you. Considering what you have told me about our young friend, and assuming that that you didn't even tell me everything, I'm surprised that he did make it this long. I'm sure as a soldier you know how it is when you during a battle run on adrenaline and don't realize how exhausted you are until later on. Everything Zechs has been through put a lot of strain on him but exhaustion didn't hit him until he finally was able to relax. Add all the other factors like not enough sleep and not eating as much as he should have and you will end up with a body on strike. What he needs more than anything right now is rest, physically as well as mentally."

Treize nodded understandingly. 

"Well, then I guess I'll see you tomorrow morning, Treize."

"Doctor, before you leave I would like to take a blood sample from the boy."

Dr. Schlegel gave the ginger-blond man a surprised look. The general smiled thinly.  
"Don't worry, I'm not second-guessing your diagnostic. I need the blood sample for a DNA analysis to search for relatives of Zechs." This wasn't even a lie.

"I can't do that without his consent, and he is in no condition to give his consent," the doctor replied. "Even as a prisoner he still has rights. I might be not practicing much anymore, but I still would like to keep my medical license."  
The General nodded. "Believe me, I would not want you to do anything that is against the law. But he is only a minor and I do have legal guardianship over Zechs. I amauthorized to make the decision **for** him."

"Very well," Dr. Schlegel shrugged as he opened his medical bag again.  


***

:::Begin of Flashback:::

  
It was still a few hours before dawn when Commander Jones returned to the palace. He found the boy, wrapped into his uniform jacket, just like he had left him. Reaching out, touching the child's neck to check his pulse, he almost hoped not to find one. The boy's death would have made things a lot easier.   
_No such luck_, Jones thought in bitter sarcasm, as he felt the slight heartbeat under his fingers_. I couldn't shoot you and you refuse to die on your own. I suppose that means I'll have to deal with the results of my own cowardliness._  
He scooped up the body and carried it outside to his jeep and bedded him onto the back seat, covering the figure with a blanket.

***

Dr. Jerome Merquise, standing by the large double doors leading into the perfectly manicured backyard, stared silently into the night. The shelling had finally stopped and it seemed abnormally quiet. From his position he could see the still sweltering ruins of the Royal Palace. Earlier he had been able to see the glow of the flames that destroyed parts of the majestic white castle. The fire had burned itself out, but the air was still heavy with smoke. Ash was raining down covering the ground with a graying white film that reminded him of dirty snow.  
The attack had caught him and his wife, just like everybody else, by total surprise. He had sent the staff of his small private practice, located in one of wing of his mansion, home to their families. It wasn't like they were able to do much good anyway after the Alliance had knocked out the power and water supplies. Ironically just a few months ago he had installed an emergency water tank, for the case of a natural disaster. Now he could kick himself for not thinking of a power backup generator as well. 

Two halfway burned candles on the table created just enough light to cast the room into a dim light. Next to the candles stood an old power cell operated radio. He had turned it off to safe batteries. But there hadn't been much news anyway after the announcement earlier that evening that the capital had fallen and Sanc was now completely under the control of the U.E.S.A.  
Jerome turned at the slight noise behind him and gave his wife a tired smile. She was wearing a long robe over her nightgown.  
"Couldn't sleep either?"  
She shook her head.  
"I could make some tea if you want some," she offered.  
"Maybe we should just try to get some rest. Who knows what tomorrow."

A pounding at the front door cut him off. It wasn't a polite knock, but a demanding banging. Jerome exchange a look with his wife.  
"Stay here," he told her as he went to see who was there.

He opened the door to a tall man in gray alliance uniform and found himself automatically tense.  
"Are you the doctor?" the soldier asked.  
Jerome nodded. "Yes."

"Come with me."   
He hesitated just a moment before he followed the soldier to a jeep outside the gate. On the backseat the doctor made out a figure, wrapped in a blanket and a uniform jacket, about the size of a large dog. But when the soldier peeled away the jacket somewhat Jerome noticed that it wasn't an animal but a child, not just any child. As the personal physician to the Peacecraft family he knew crown prince Milliardo only too well and recognized him instantly. Jerome felt his heart drop.   
The Alliance soldier scooped up the boy and handed him over to the doctor. Jerome took him reflexively, staring at the blood covered body, not daring to ask what had happened to the boy – or his family.  
The soldier turned and climbed into the jeep without a word. Only when he turned on the ignition the doctor snapped out of his shock.  
"Wait, you can't just leave him here. He needs to be taken to a hospital. I don't have the means to treat his injuries, for God's sake I don't even have electricity."  
"A hospital is out of question," the soldier answered flatly. "Besides I have already done more than I should have. You are a doctor, do whatever you have to do."  
Jerome watched as the jeep disappeared into the night. As he looked down at the small boy in his arms his medical training kicked in. He walked back into the house with long strides. His wife, standing in the door to the living room looked at him questioningly and concerned.

"I'll need your help, Sara. – It's Prince Milliardo. I'm not sure yet how badly he is injured."

She nodded, swallowing all the questions she had, knowing there would be time to ask them later. Now there were more important matters to take care off. " I'll heat some water."

  
Three hours later, as the Sanc Kingdom woke to a new day, Milliardo was resting in drug-induced sleep. Dr. Merquise had removed three bullets from the boy's body, closed and dressed his wounds and given him a blood transfusion. That was all he could do. If it was enough only time could tell.

The next morning, when the Alliance officially announced the "execution" of the royal family, Jerome and Sara knew that for their own protection as well as the safety of the young prince it was best to leave the country. Two days later Dr Merquise decided that, although Milliardo had a slight fever and was still under the influence of painkillers and sedatives, the boy's condition was stable enough for him to be moved.

::: End of Flashback::: 

* * *

TBC

Author's notes:   
  
**What's to come:** Part 10 - Interlude 1  
A short piece in Treize' POV dealing with his feelings torward Zechs

Please R&R! Remember your reviews are the only compensation I receive for my efforts, so please be generous. :-)


	11. Interlude 1

Thanks to all of those reviewing my story. 

* * *

****

Whatever It Takes – Book I: Time of Choices  


Interlude 1 – Treize's POV

I looked up from my laptop at Zechs' quiet moan. He looked so fragile, almost as pale as the sheets around him. 

Lieutenant Walker had sent the altered picture of Milliardo Peacecraft back to me a few hours ago. Although we still weren't able to do a DNA test, as it proofed extremely difficult to find any DNA sample of the Peacecraft family, the frightening resemblance between the picture and Zechs had already convinced me. There was no doubt in my mind that the boy was no other than crown prince Milliardo, heir to the Sanc Kingdom, thought to have died almost 14 years ago.

How could he have survived? Was he there when the executions happened? Was this where his nightmare came from? Dear god, I certainly could not blame him for hating the Alliance and everything connected to it, which included me.   
I could only imagine how he must feel, no, actually, I don't think I could. I don't think anybody could imagine what it must be like to witness the slaughter of your entire family? 

When it happened he must have beenabout 4 years old. Old enough to realize what was going on, but too young to understand why it happened. 

I knew that in my life as a soldier I had witnessed a lot, on and off the battlefield. But nothing I had seen could compare to what this boy had been through.

I had spent the last two hours learning the full truth about the attack on the Sanc Kingdom by reading files so classified even I had trouble accessing them. 14 years ago I had only been a child myself. I had learned about Sanc's fall from history books and news vids, being fed only what the Alliance wanted me to know. Later, as a high-ranking Alliance officer I'd found out more, little by little. But the last pieces of the puzzle didn't fall into place until now. If I had not already been convinced that the Alliance needed to be stopped I would have been sold after reading those files.

I closed my laptop and put it aside. My eyes wandered to Zechs and I just sat there watching him sleep. He was breathtakingly beautiful. But what I really admired about him was his pride and inner strength. I have never known a person as strong and willful as Zechs. Losing your family not only once, but twice, and still being able to go on took a special kind of person. But this kind of strength and pride could also be a flaw. I had noticed that it was difficult for Zechs to ask for help or accept comfort. I wished that he would finally realize that I was not his enemy and that could help him if he would only let me. I wondered how he would react when I told him that I knew about his past.

Another slight moan from Zechs captured my attention. I reached out and laid my hand on his forehead, relieved that it didn't feel as hot and sweaty as it did before. His fever seemed finally to have broken. Earlier when I took his temperature it had been only 98.6 degrees. Zechs stirred. I pulled my hand away, watching him expectantly. Suddenly his eyelids fluttered. Blue eyes opened slowly, confusion in his look. I could tell it took him a while to realize where he was, but I didn't say anything, sat just there watching him until he turned his head and focused on me. When I saw recognition in those ice blue pools I gave him a soft smile.   
"Welcome back, Zechs. How are you feeling?"

It took a moment before he answered his voice frail, a little hoarse, but underlined with a hit of dry humor.

"Like I've lost a head-on collision with a mobile suit carrier."

"Do you want something to drink?" I asked, already on my feet and on the way to the bathroom to fetch a glass of cold water.

I helped him sit up, steadying him while he drank.

"You almost scared us to death." I told him.   
"Scared you?" His head sunk back into the white pillows as he looked at me questioningly.  
I nodded. "You have been out for almost five days."

"Five days?" he suppressed a yawn. "If I slept for five days, why am I still so god damn tired?"

I chuckled as I pulled his covers up. "Go back to sleep. You still need the rest."  
Before he drifted off he managed to say something that sounded somewhat like "Thank you."   


* * *

TBC

Author's notes:   
  
**What's to come:** Part 11 - Secrets Revealed  
Treize's suspissions about Zechs true identity are confirmed. But how will Zechs react when Treize tells him?.

Please R&R! Remember your reviews are the only compensation I receive for my efforts, so please be generous. :-)


	12. Secrets Revealed

Thanks to all of those reviewing my story.   


* * *

****

Whatever It Takes – Book I: Time of Choices

Part 11 – Secrets Revealed

While Lieutenant Walker searched for any DNA sample of the Peacecraft family he made a rather curious discovery. Another person, a military doctor named Sally Po, working at a medical facility in Southern Europe was looking for exactly the same.  
When Walker had reported that finding to Treize the general had decided to pay a visit to the medical center.

Zechs' recovery was going rather well and as tempting as the thought was, he couldn't stay at home with the boy forever. 

Treize had made himself somewhat familiar with the young doctor on his way to Madrid. She was an Army Lieutenant 2nd class, working like all the other military personnel at the facility under direct command of General Septm. 

A small black luxury car was waiting at the airfield for Treize, taking him directly to the medical center.  
The young woman, looking somewhat nervous, greeted him with a crisp salute.

"You wanted to see me, Sir?"

Treize returned the greeting casually. He could almost hear the gears in her head working as she tried to figure out if it was a good thing or a bad thing that the general had come all this way to meet with her personally.

"Relax, Lieutenant," the ginger-blond man laughed. "In spite of popular beliefs, I don't eat subordinate officers. Speaking of which. Have you had lunch yet?"

"I have a desk full of work, Sir. I usually don't do lunch."

Treize shook his head in criticism. "That's a very bad habit. There is never a good reason to skip lunch, Lieutenant. I'm sure your work will be still here in an hour. I saw a small bistro on my way here and I would like for you to join me." 

When she hesitated he continued in pretended seriousness. "I don't take rejection very well, Lieutenant. If I have to I'll make that an order."

He actually managed to make her smile.  
"That won't be necessary, General. I'll be happy to join you."

A few minutes later they were sitting together in the back of the black Mercedes on their way to the bistro. Sally Po starred out of the window for a few minutes before she turned toward the ginger-blond man and asked.

"Permission to speak freely, Sir?"

"Go ahead, Lieutenant."

"As much as I would love to flatter myself with the idea of you coming all the way from Luxembourg to have lunch with me, something tells me I would be only kidding myself."

Treize laughed. He liked the young woman already. 

"I have to talk to you about something," he told her. "Something I would rather not discuss in earshot of too many people."

"I see," she just answered.

At the bistro Treize asked for a semi-private booth in the back of the restaurant. Here at least he was sure that whoever might overhear their conversation wasn't going to run and relay it to General Septm.  
The waiter brought a basket of fresh bread and the menus.  
"I've heard you are looking for DNA material from the Peacecraft family," Treize said as he opened his card. "I take it your orders came from General Septm?"

She nodded. "Yes they did."

"My aid, Lieutenant Walker, was performing the same search."

Another nod. "I noticed that, General. I was thinking of contacting him and compare my data with him."  
"Did the general mention what he is planning to do with it?" the ginger blond man asked, blue eyes suddenly very alert.

Sally almost frowned, wondering why the general didn't go and asked Septm directly instead of coming to her.

"He said the government was planning on exhuming the remains of the Peacecraft family to give them a proper state burial in the near future. The DNA evidence would be needed to identify their bodies amongst all the other remains in the mass grave. If you ask me, General, what happened back then was wrong and a state burial would show at least some kind of remorse about it. It's the right thing to do and it is about time."

Treize was silent for a moment, then nodded as he made the decision to be open with her.

"I agree with you. It would be the right thing to do, if there were any plans for it."

"I beg your pardon?" She gave him a puzzled look.

"There are no plans for a state burial for the Peacecraft family," Treize told her. There probably never would be any, not as long as the old guard in the Alliance was still in power. It was too dangerous for them, because along with the remains they would dig up things they would rather keep buried forever.

They interrupted their conversation when the waiter came to take their orders, which allowed Sally to think about what she just had been told.

"Then why would General Septm want the DNA evidence?" 

"Your guess is a good as mine, Lieutenant. I do not know," Treize confessed. _But I'm planning to find out._

"Was your search successful?" he asked her.

She shook her head. "Unfortunately not. It seems like somebody, very methodically destroyed any and all medical data about the entire family."  
_Merquise,_ Treize thought. _He was a doctor and he was also the Peacecrafts' personal physician. He knew exactly what files to delete and where to find him. He must have made sure anything that could connect Zechs Milliardo to his family was destroyed_.

"I know it is none of my business, but may I ask what **you** need the DNA sample for?" the Lieutenant asked.

"I can only tell you that much Lieutenant. I do agree with you. What happened in the Sanc Kingdom was wrong. I'm only trying to do my part of setting it right again."  


***  


Zechs Merquise looked and felt a whole lot better than he did only three days ago when he had woken up. Dr Schlegel still came by every day to check on him, but at least the annoying IV had been taken out. Unfortunately Zechs wasn't the most cooperative patient now that he was awake. As far as he was concerned there was no reason for him to lie in bed when he didn't have a fever anymore. He had tried to convince Treize about that, but without much luck. The general's mind was set on following the doctor's orders and in the morning before he had left for work he had warned Zechs that he'd better not got up. Treize threatened that he would tie him to the bed if necessary. The blond doubted that the general really would go that far, but had promised to stay put nevertheless. Now he was bored to tears but bound to a promise. 

Max looked in on him every so often, ensuring that he had everything he needed, according to him. But the blond had his suspicions that the butler was making sure that he, Zechs, followed the general's orders. He had also learned from the butler that Treize had been almost constantly by his side while he had been unconscious. Part of him was really touched by that. But another, bigger, part felt rather embarrassed, because that meant Treize had probably witnessed his nightmares as well. He knew that he could do nothing about them. He had lived with them for most of his life. But he hated for people, especially the general, to see that side of him. He hated to appear weak in front of Treize.

Zechs picked up one of the books the general had left for him on the nightstand. Algebra! He made a sour face.

Treize had informed him the other day that he had hired a private tutor for him. The general had told him that he had missed too much school already and that he was too intelligent not to finish his education. Until Zechs was well enough to start home schooling he was expected to brush up on his lessons. It wasn't like Zechs hated school. He had always been one of the top students, it was just that he wasn't sure if he ever needed any of that stuff, especially now. He had no idea what his future was going to hold. 

***

"General Septm," the gray-haired duke addressed the man who had called him. "I hope you have good news."

"I'm not so sure about that. It's General Khushrenada, Sir, he showed up rather unexpectedly at the MJ-14 facility in Madrid a few days ago. I don't think he was there on official business." Septm said. "I was told he met Dr. Po."

"He did, didn't he?" the duke asked. "What was the meeting about?"  
"That I do not know. The two left the office and went out for lunch," the general answered. "Maybe that's all it was, a simple lunch date."  
The duke shook his head. "General Septm, there is no such word as simple when it comes to my great-nephew. There is a hidden agenda in 99% of the things he does."

"Do you think he knows?"

"Knows what, that Princess Relena Peacecraft might be still alive? I don't think so. But if he gets suspicious there is no saying what he might do and through what length he might go to get the answers he wants. He **is** a Khushrenada after all. And he isn't a general at his age for nothing."

"So, what should we do?" Septm asked.  
"Leave him to me. I'll play upon our family bounds and try to find out what he knows, if anything."  
Septm nodded. "As you wish."

***

When Treize walked into the study he found Zechs curled up by the fireplace with a book. The general had been looking for days for the right moment to tell the boy that he knew his secret and he decided that this was as good of a time as any. 

He closed the door behind him and locked it. The sound of the key turning made Zechs look up at him.

"We need to talk about something," Treize explained. "And I would rather not be disturbed by anybody."

He walked over to the couch, gesturing Zechs to join him. The general wasn't sure how to begin and there was a moment of awkward silence. Treize finally decided to go for the direct approach and said:

"While you were sick, I had my aid do some background research on you, Zechs. – Or should I call you Milliardo?"

Zechs paled, even as he put on a surprised expression and asked:

"Who?"  
"There is no reason to deny it, Zechs." Treize said quietly.

The boy's expression changed from surprise to total resignation. 

"So, what is the Alliance going to do now? Finish off what they started 14 years ago?" he asked bitter.  
That stung.  
"Do you still have such a low opinion of me? I thought you would know me better by now. Nobody but my aid and myself know about it. I have no intention in using that knowledge to harm you. I give you my word of honor on that, Zechs. Trust me!"  
The blond snorted defensively.  
"You ask me to trust you, but you don't extent the same kind of courtesy to me. Trust usually grows out of two people being open with each other."

Treize raised one eyebrow.  
"What do you mean?"  
"You are never straightforward to me about anything, Treize. Every time I ask you a question you answer it with one of your own. – I still don't even know why you took me in in the first place."  
"You haven't figured that out on your own yet?" Treize asked.  
"See what I mean? Besides how am I supposed to figure out what's going on in your head."  
"Maybe the answer is simpler than you think, Zechs," the ginger blond man replied softly. "When I met you, you looked like you could use some help and a good friend. I thought I could be that friend. And I'm hoping that maybe" looking directly at the boy he continued. "In time it will turn into more than just friendship."

Zechs stared at the general silently. For a moment it looked like he was going to say something, then he just rose.

"I wasn't finished," Treize told him as he turned to leave the room.   
"I need to be alone right now," Zechs answered as he walked away confused. Could he really trust Treize? Trust the word of honor of an Alliance officer? It wasn't like he had much of a choice. But then from what he had come to know about Treize, the man was nothing like those Alliance soldiers that had killed his family. Maybe he could give him the benefit of the doubt.   


***

  
When Zechs didn't come down for breakfast the next morning Treize went up with a tray of food.  
"What's that?" The blond asked.

"Breakfast. You need to eat."

The boy frowned.  
"Great, now you are going to tell me also when I have to eat?"

"Dr. Schlegel said that part of the reason you got sick was your not taking care of yourself. I won't let that happen again." The general told him, ignoring the biting sarcasm. "After you are finished I want to see you in the fencing room?"

Once the general had left Zechs lifted the cover from the serving tray. At the sight of the delicious food his stomach reminded him that he actually was quite hungry. He buttered a freshly baked roll and filled his plate with bacon and eggs. About 15 minutes later he finished his breakfast with a few slices of an orange.

Wondering why Treize wanted to meet with him in the fencing room he walked downstairs. He knew that the general used the room a lot for his practice, but he himself had never set foot into it before.

Treize was already waiting for the boy. He handed him a rapier. Taking the weapon Zechs smirked.  
"I'm surprised you are letting me handle such a sharp and pointy object. Aren't you afraid I'm going to hurt myself, or somebody else for that matter?"  
"Are you quite finished yet?" the general asked with just a hint of annoyance in his voice.  
"What is this supposed to be?"  
"Apparently for some, to me unknown, reason you are angry with me. Fighting against me will give you an opportunity to vent that anger." Treize explained. "You also can use the exercise. I've heard you are supposed to be quite an excellent fighter."  
"I know a little bit about fencing," Zechs answered modestly.   
"If I win, we will sit down and we will talk without you running off in the middle of the conversation," the general said.

"If I win you will answer my questions openly and honestly," Zechs replied.  
Treize thought about it for a moment then agreed. "Fair enough."  
"Then lets get started, shall we."  
Treize nodded as he raised his rapier.   
Zechs' movements were fluid and quick, but he had not practiced for quite a while. He also lacked the superior techniques and finesse of his opponent, which in the end cost him the match.   
"Let's retreat into the study," Treize suggested. "I had Max serve refreshments there."  
"You never doubted for a second that you would win, didn't you?" Zechs growled.

The ginger blond man just smiled.   
_Arrogant bastard_, the boy thought, but not without a certain amount of admiration for the general fighting skill and confidence.  


***

"When I was looking through the files that you had hacked in to I couldn't figure out at first what you were actually after. It wasn't until I learned about your past that I realized you were looking for the people responsible. You were trying to find the person, who was in command and gave the orders for your family to be killed, weren't you?"

Zechs nodded. It was true in part at least.

"And if you would have found him, what would you have done?"  
"What do you think I would have done?" the boy snapped. 

"So you would have tried to kill him? Let's assume for a moment you would have been successful with that, what exactly would that have accomplish?" Treize asked.

"What does it matter to you?"  
"Now, there is no reason to be rude," the general replied calmly.

"Hn."  
"Zechs believe me I do understand your need for revenge. But killing one person will do no good. It might make you feel good about if for a while but it will change nothing. He was nothing but a tool. He might have given the command to execute your family, but he only acted on somebody else's order. If you kill him he would be easily replaced."

Zechs looked at the general, somewhat confused.  
"What are you saying, Treize?"  
"I'm saying that there is a bigger evil, the root of everything. As long as the Alliance is in power and Earth and the colonies are under the control of the same people that that decided to attack the Sanc Kingdom nothing will change."

"You are part of that Alliance, Treize." Zechs reminded him.  
"True, but I'm also part of a new generation with different ideals. I can help you Zechs, if you let me."

"Help me take revenge?"

"Help you to take back what rightfully is yours, the throne to the Sanc Kingdom. I'm not saying it will be easy, but it can be done."

Zechs frowned.

"What about retribution for the death of my family?"

"You are thinking like Zechs Merquise, which is not surprising since you have been Zechs Merquise most of your life," Treize said. "But now it is time that you start thinking like Milliardo Peacecraft."  
Zechs frown deepened. "What are you talking about?"  
"Zechs Merquise is only responsible for himself. Milliardo Peacecraft's responsibility lies with his kingdom. You need to think about what is more important to you, your private revenge or the future of the Sanc Kingdom."  
"What do you expect me to do?"  
"The question is not as much what I expect of you, but what are you willing to do?"

The blond took a few moments to think before he answered with determination in his voice. "I'll do whatever it takes."

Treize nodded like he had expected nothing else and rose.

* * *

TBC

Author's notes:   
  
**What's to come:** Part 11 - Vacation  
Yes, that's right. Treize is taking a leave and Zechs on vacation. This might seem odd to you, but keep in mind what the good (or bad) old duke said. Treize has always some kind of hidden agenda.

Please R&R! Remember your reviews are the only compensation I receive for my efforts, so please be generous. :-)


End file.
